which Prue had spoken convinced me that he might.

"At least," I said, "Mr. Titbottom will not refuse to tell us the
history of his mysterious spectacles. I have known plenty of magic in
eyes"--and I glanced at the tender blue eyes of Prue--"but I have not
heard of any enchanted glasses."

"Yet you must have seen the glass in which your wife looks every
morning, and I take it that glass must be daily enchanted." said
Titbottom, with a bow of quaint respect to my wife.

I do not think I have seen such a blush upon Prue's cheek since--well,
since a great many years ago.

"I will gladly tell you the history of my spectacles," began
Titbottom. "It is very simple; and I am not at all sure that a great
many other people have not a pair of the same kind. I have never,
indeed, heard of them by the gross, like those of our young friend,
Moses, the son of the Vicar of Wakefield. In fact, I think a gross
would be quite enough to supply the world. It is a kind of article for
which the demand does not increase with use. If we should all wear
spectacles like mine, we should never smile any more. Oh--I am not
quite sure--we should all be very happy."

"A very important difference," said Prue, counting her stitches.

"You know my grandfather Titbottom was a West Indian. A large
proprietor, and an easy man, he basked in the tropical sun, leading
his quiet, luxurious life. He lived much alone, and was what people
call eccentric, by which I understand that he was very much himself,