which had occasioned Newton's mirth.

"He, he, he!"

This last merriment of Mr Dragwell appeared to the lady to be such a
pointed insult to her, that she bounded out of the room, exclaiming,
"that an alehouse would have been a more suitable _rendezvous."_

The curate twiddled his thumbs, as the eyes of all the party followed
the exit of Mrs Forster; and there were a few moments of silence.

"Don't you find her a pleasant little craft, Forster?" said Hilton,
addressing Newton.

Nicholas Forster, who was in a brown study about his wife, shook his
head without lifting up his eyes, while Newton nodded assent.

"Plenty of accommodation in her," continued Hilton.--Another negative
shake from Nicholas, and assentient nod from Newton.

"If I thought you could manage her, Forster," continued Hilton--"tell
me, what do you think yourself?"

"Oh, quite impossible!" replied Nicholas.

"Quite impossible, Mr Forster! Well, now, I've a better opinion of
Newton--I think he _can."_

"Why, yes," replied Nicholas! "certainly better than I can; but still
she's--"