he rather insinuated that poor Fanny, the great heiress, was not worthy
of me, than that I was not worthy of Fanny.

I felt that there was no wisdom in stammering and blushing out denials
and equivocations; so I stretched my hand to Sir Sedley, took up my hat,
and went. Instinctively I bent my way to my father's house. I had not
been there for many days. Not only had I had a great deal to do in the
way of business, but I am ashamed to say that pleasure itself had so
entangled my leisure hours, and Miss Trevanion especially so absorbed
them, that, without even uneasy foreboding, I had left my father
fluttering his wings more feebly and feebly in the web of Uncle Jack.
When I arrived in Russell Street I found the fly and the spider cheek-
by-jowl together. Uncle Jack sprang up at my entrance and cried,
"Congratulate your father. Congratulate him!---no; congratulate the
world!"

"What, uncle!" said I, with a dismal effort at sympathizing liveliness,
"is the 'Literary Times' launched at last?"

"Oh! that is all settled,--settled long since. Here's a specimen of the
type we have chosen for the leaders." And Uncle Jack, whose pocket was
never without a wet sheet of some kind or other, drew forth a steaming
papyral monster, which in point of size was to the political "Times" as
a mammoth may be to an elephant. "That is all settled. We are only
preparing our contributors, and shall put out our programme next week or
the week after. No, Pisistratus, I mean the Great Work."

"My dear father, I am so glad. What! it is really sold, then?"

"Hum!" said my father.