"All!" said I,—"at least, all the celestial ones!"
Though half way through the door, the beauty extricated her hoop, and drew back. "Bless me, the gods as well as the goddesses?"
"Certainly."
"You jest: tell me how."
"Nothing can be easier; you resemble Mercury because of your thefts."
"Thefts!"
"Ay; stolen hearts, and," added I, in a whisper, "glances; Jupiter, partly because of your lightning, which you lock up in the said glances,—principally because all things are subservient to you; Neptune, because you are as changeable as the seas; Vulcan, because you live among the flames you excite; and Mars, because—"
"You are so destructive," cried my uncle.
"Exactly so; and because," added I—as I shut the door upon the beauty—"because, thanks to your hoop, you cover nine acres of ground."
"Ods fish, Morton," said my uncle, "you surprise me at times: one while you are so reserved, at another so assured; to-day so brisk, to-morrow so gloomy. Why now, Lady Hasselton (she is very comely, eh! faith, but not comparable to her mother) told me, a week ago, that she, gave you up in despair, that you were dull, past hoping for; and now, 'Gad, you had a life in you that Sid himself could not have surpassed. How comes it, Sir, eh?"