"Then it is he. Good heavens! and the daughter of Isabella Manners is actually engaged to my nephew!" "Is it possible," ejaculated Mrs. Seymour, "that Henry Lovell is Major Barker's nephew?" "He is indeed, madam," replied the agitated major; "and it is only this morning that I have written to ask him to come to Overton. Pray excuse my abruptness, you shall shortly learn the cause of it; but the story is a long one." A prolonged and interesting conversation, relative to Lovell and Laura, now ensued between the major and Mr. and Mrs. Seymour, the information and explanations on either side affording the highest degree of satisfaction. The incidents following these strange and unexpected recognitions we must leave to be indicated in the next chapter. THE CHAPTER XXII. Our lovers, briefly be it said, HE great Wizard of the North has compared the course of a narrative to the progress of a stone rolled down-hill by an idle truant boy. At first the stone moves slowly, avoiding by inflection every obstacle of the least importance; but when it has attained its full impulse, and draws near the conclusion of its career, it smokes and thunders down, taking a rood at every spring, clearing hedge and ditch like a Yorkshire huntsman, and becoming most furiously rapid in its course when it is nearest to being consigned to rest for ever. "Even such is the course of a narrative: the earlier events are studiously dwelt upon; but when the story draws near its close, we hurry over the circumstances, however important, which your imagination must have forestalled, and leave you to suppose those things which it would be abusing your patience to relate at length." Let the reader accept these words as an explanation of, and an apology for, the rapidity with which we now hasten over the events that bring our tale to its close. Need it be said that the major recognized his nephew as his heir; that he sanctioned his union with Laura Villiers; and that, after the manner of rich uncles, he made a splendid settlement? Nay, more: before the marriage, the major purchased in the neighbourhood of Overton a compact little estate and residence, which happened opportunely to be offered for sale; and he declared that this should be his nephew's country home, upon the sole condition that his old uncle should for a few months in the year share in its rural delights. Nothing, therefore, remained but to appoint the day on which Laura Villiers should bestow her hand upon Henry Lovell, thereby completing his happiness, and perfecting the satisfaction of the major. We might plead the dramatic unities that confine our scene of action to Overton, as a pretext for dispensing with the description of the ceremony itself, which took place elsewhere; but we may at once frankly confess that the powers of our pen would, in any case, have proved inadequate to the occasion. As, however, it was determined to celebrate the arrival of the young couple at Oakwood Park, their future residence, by a rural fête at Overton, we have yet to recount the occasion and manner of this festival. First, a word as to our worthy vicar, whom we left at the end of the last chapter in a state of mental effervescence foreign to his usually serene breast. But the propitious events which had occurred in the interval had so calmed his spirit, that his habitual good-nature asserted itself; and he announced that as, notwithstanding all his remonstrances, Annette was determined to marry Jacob Thompson, the major's valet, he had promised to perform the ceremony himself, observing that, "as Virgil has it, 'Connubio jungam stabili." "As it is quite settled," said the major, "by all means let them marry; and I think matters may be so arranged as that you shall not be deprived of the services of your faithful housekeeper." The fête by which Overton was to celebrate the arrival of Henry Lovell and his blooming bride in their new home was a project of Major Barker's. "I would gladly diffuse," said he to the vicar, "a portion of my happiness over the neighbourhood in which it is my inten A RURAL FESTIVAL. 321 tion to pass my future days. Listen, therefore, to the plan which I have devised for carrying this into effect. I design to give a public entertainment upon a scale rarely witnessed in a country place." "An entertainment!" muttered Mr. Goodenough, whose countenance afforded anything but encouragement to such a scheme; for our vicar was as little disposed to enter into the major's festive ideas as he was at the outset, into Mr. Seymour's plan of scientific instruction. The major, however, saw plainly that the vicar might be made to approve of, or dissent from, any plan, by a dexterous appeal to classical and antiquarian authority. He therefore determined to use this as a talisman for transforming that excellent man into an active agent in the accomplishment of his purpose; and accordingly he stated that he should desire to see the entertainment conducted with some regard to ancient usages. The vicar's countenance brightened; but Mr. Seymour here interrupted the conversation by inquiring of the major the plan of those amusements which he proposed to provide. "I would convert the elm meadow at Oakwood Park into a fair," replied the major, "wherein every species of amusement should be exhibited. I would engage that vagabond Punch, who, like a snail, travels about the country with his house on his back, to display his hereditary wit and mimic drolleries; tumblers, rope-dancers, conjurors, fire-eaters, and, in short, the whole merry train of Comus should be pressed into our service. After these exhibitions, the company might weave the mazy dance on platforms erected for their accommodation; orchestras might be arranged for music, and ornamented tents for refreshments. The vicar," continued he, with an arch smile, "might open the ball with the bride." "Had I numbered a few Olympiads less, I might not have declined so flattering a distinction," replied Mr. Goodenough, evidently not displeased with the compliment. your 'Find some classical authority for the measure, and let age sanction the propriety of my proposals," said the major. "Your suggestion merits attention—I have it, major. Socrates learned to dance very late in life, and Cato, with all his severity of manners, disdained not at the age of sixty to practise it. I will, therefore, comply with your desire, and certainly lead the bride down the first dance." "How charming! how very delightful!" exclaimed Louisa. "But pray, papa, do allow Tom to return from school to witness all these amusements." "Fear not," said the major; "I shall make that a condition, and I trust your papa will not refuse the request.” "Certainly not," replied the father; "I shall be glad to seize the opportunity for explaining to my children the various tricks they will witness, and the machinery by which the deceptions will be accomplished. Thus shall I convert that which, to the common eye, will appear as a scene of mere amusement, into a school of philosophy, and, in accordance with my favourite plan, 'turn sport into science."" "Upon my word, Mr. Seymour, you are quite an alchemist," said the major, "and extract gold from everything you can melt in your philosophical pot. You have already derived scientific information from the most miscellaneous and trifling amusements, and upon this occasion you will, no doubt, convert our very pies and puddings into instruments of instruction; thus verifying the old adage, that 'there is reason in roasting of eggs.' "I perceive that the major is not aware of the philosophy which suggested that adage,” observed the vicar. "Nor am I," said Mr. Seymour, "and pray, therefore, enlighten us upon that point." "You doubtless know that there is a little air-bag at the large end of every egg, called the folliculus aeris, which, as we are told, is designed to furnish a supply of air to the growing chick. If, therefore, an egg be exposed to the temperature of hot embers, this air will be suddenly expanded, the shell will be burst, and its contents scattered in the ashes. To prevent such an occurrence, the careful housewife pricks the blunt end of the shell with a needle, so as to allow the expanded air to escape, and thus prevents the accident I have just explained. Thus it appears that there is reason, or philosophy, even in roasting an egg. 66 Capital, upon my word!" exclaimed Mr. Seymour. "Well, but, papa, we have interrupted the major in his delightful description; he had not concluded the account of his proposed fête," said Louisa. 66 Pray go on," cried Mr. Seymour. "Let me see, where did you leave off? Oh! I remember, you were interrupted in an |