"Come in. My niece awaits us."

'"Is the young lady tolerable good-looking, Sir?" says Tom, hanging
fire rather, as he thought of her playing the piano, and knowing
French, and being up to all manner of accomplishments.

'"She's beautiful!" cries the old gentleman, who was in such a
terrible bustle that he was all in a perspiration. "She has a
graceful carriage, an exquisite shape, a sweet voice, a countenance
beaming with animation and expression; and the eye," he says,
rubbing his hands, "of a startled fawn."

'Tom supposed this might mean, what was called among his circle of
acquaintance, "a game eye;" and, with a view to this defect,
inquired whether the young lady had any cash.

'"She has five thousand pounds," cries the old gentleman. "But
what of that? what of that? A word in your ear. I'm in search of
the philosopher's stone. I have very nearly found it - not quite.
It turns everything to gold; that's its property."

'Tom naturally thought it must have a deal of property; and said
that when the old gentleman did get it, he hoped he'd be careful to
keep it in the family.

'"Certainly," he says, "of course. Five thousand pounds! What's
five thousand pounds to us? What's five million?" he says.
"What's five thousand million? Money will be nothing to us. We
shall never be able to spend it fast enough."