She thought him too stout—much too stout! In Sylvester's view there was nothing about him particularly bulky: he didn't object to his appearance at all: on the contrary, he conceived him to be a remarkably fine man—handsome, full of health, and extremely well-proportioned. Still Aunt Eleanor thought him too stout, and therefore took time to consider.
The scene changed; and Sylvester opened his eyes; but he was then as soundly asleep as before, and having put the treatise aside, he mended a pen, and deliberately wrote the following letter:—
"Dear Sir,
"My dear aunt desires me to inform you that she has an idea of entering into the marriage state. She has not exactly made up her mind, nor will she until she has had the pleasure of seeing you. She is anxious to consult you. She imagines that the gentleman who has proposed to her is somewhat too stout; and as she has always had the very highest confidence in your judgment, she wishes to have your opinion upon the point, before any final answer is given.
"Independently of which, she most earnestly hopes that, if the marriage should take place, you will do her the favour to perform the ceremony.
"I am, dear sir,
"Yours faithfully and affectionately,
"Sylvester Sound."
This letter he directed to the Reverend Mr. Rouse, and having sealed it, rang the bell.
"James," said he, as the servant entered, "be kind enough to take this letter to the post. Go with it immediately."
"I will, sir," said James, who had no more idea of his being asleep, than he had of opening the letter to see what it contained.
Sylvester closed his eyes again, and, as the letter was off his mind, his sleep may be said to have been more profound, and thus he continued to sleep in his chair until Tom returned with a man-trap.
"Hollo, Syl!" cried Tom, as he entered the library. "Asleep!"
"I was for a moment," said Sylvester, rubbing his eyes.
"I say; here's the bachide," said Tom, pointing to the man-trap. "That's the sort of thidg, eh? It strikes be that'll hold hib."
"He'll not run a very great distance with it, I think," returned Sylvester.
"If he does, I'll forgive hib!" cried Tom. "Look here; capital teeth!"
"Rather rusty," said Sylvester.
"So buch the better," cried Tom. "But just help us up stairs with it. They bustd't see it. We'll take it idto the study, add thed all will be safe."
Sylvester accordingly assisted him up with it, and when they had affixed the chain to a staple near the window, and locked it, they tried it again and again, with the view of making sure that a man's foot would have the desired effect. Having satisfied themselves upon this
