"And," said my mother, softly, "I do think, Austin, there is a way of settling the matter which will please all parties. It is quite sad to think that poor Roland and dear little Blanche should be all alone in the Tower; and I am sure that we should be much happier all together."
"There!" cried Roland, triumphantly. "If you are not the most obstinate, hard-hearted, unfeeling brute in the world,—which I don't take you to be,—brother Austin, after that really beautiful speech of your wife's, there is not a word to be said further."
"But we have not yet heard Kitty to the end, Roland."
"I beg your pardon a thousand times, ma'am—sister," said the Captain, bowing.
"Well, I was going to add," said my mother, "that we will go and live with you, Roland, and club our little fortunes together. Blanche and I will take care of the house, and we shall be just twice as rich together as we are separately."
"Pretty sort of hospitality that!" grunted the Captain. "I did not expect you to throw me over in that way. No, no; you must lay by for the boy there. What's to become of him?"
"But we shall all lay by for him," said my mother, simply,—"you as well as Austin. We shall have more to save, if we have more to spend."
"Ah, save!—that is easily said; there would be a pleasure in saving, then," said the Captain, mournfully.
"And what's to become of me?" cried Squills, very petulantly. "Am I to be left here in my old age, not a rational soul to speak to, and no other place in the village where there's a drop of decent punch to be had? 'A plague on both your houses!' as the chap said at the theatre the other night."
"There's room for a doctor in our neighborhood, Mr. Squills," said the Captain. "The gentleman in your profession who does for us, wants, I know, to sell the business."