was however not a man to be advised, at least, if people desired that their advice should be taken. An impatient shrug of the shoulder and a still deeper silence was the utmost reply that the ingenious insinuation, or even the more direct attack, ever produced. Every time Mr. Dalton went from home, it was universally decided that he was gone to be married: still, though there is an old proverb stating that what everybody says must be true, yet there is no rule without an exception. Though everybody said Mr. Dalton was gone to be married, still he persisted in coming home single; but, at last, the report was fairly used out. His neighbours grew tired of predicting what never came true. His marriage, which happened at last, took them all by surprise. No one had had the pleasure of foreseeing anything about it.
"Yesterday, at St. George's, Hanover Square, Eliza Meredith, daughter of the late John Meredith, Esq., to Albert Dalton, Esq., of Dalton Park," was the first intimation his neighbours
