The young lady was wholly unprepared for such an inquiry, and as she thought of the disparity of their ages, she hurried on and pretended to be so absorbed with the ingenuity of the sewing machine, as not to have heard the question; the Major, however, had no sooner led his fair companion into Russia, than he whispered the same tender question in her ear as she stood admiring the beauty of the malachite doors. Elcy, finding at last that it was impossible to evade the question, begged of the Major not to press her for an answer, telling him that the remembrance of his great kindness would always insure him her best regard, and as she said so, the frank-hearted girl shook him by the hand in token of her friendship; all of which the sanguine Major construed into a modest assent to his proposal, and he plucked up his shirt collar, as he felt as if the snows of some thirty winters had been suddenly swept away from his head. On the return home of the party, after their day’s tour of the world, the Major announced at tea that he proposed passing the remainder of his days in Buttermere, and it was accordingly arranged between himself and Cursty that they should leave London for Cumberland with the least possible delay.

But the departure of the Sandboys and the Major was doomed to be delayed once more; for Mrs. Cursty no sooner received a full and impartial account from Elcy and Jobby, of all the many curiosities contained beneath the huge glass case of the Crystal Palace, than she made up her mind she would have one peep at it before she left.

And when Mrs. Sandboys had feasted her eyes on the banquet of the works of Industry of all nations, she in her turn came back with a glowing account of its many marvels, so that poor Cursty began inwardly to long for a peep at it himself, but remembering the vow he had registered on the ceiling, he still pretended to be firm, though in his heart he was really waiting for his friends to press him to abandon his resolution, and to find some little excuse by which he could, with any show of honour, sneak out of the determination he had come to; and in the hope of their so doing, he managed to put off their departure, day after day, until at last, on the Monday morning fixed for their return to Buttermere, as Cursty sat at breakfast, sipping his hot tea hastily, so as to be in time for the train to the North, he confessed it would be a shame for him to go back without seeing the Exhibition. Accordingly, he asked the Major if, as a man of honour, he thought he could rescind his vow, saying that it struck him that, as he had taken an oath he would not stir a foot to get to the Great Exhibition, that did not prevent his being carried there. The Major smiled at the equivocation, and telling his friend that he might do so, and still preserve his honour unsullied, Mr. Sandboys consented that the cab which was then at the door to convey them to the station on their way back to their mountain home, should go round by the Exhibition, and drop him at the transept, so that he might pop his head in, and just be able to say that he had seen it, after all.

The Major who, while Cursty was coquetting with his conscience, stood at the window entertaining himself with the perusal of the morning paper, which he had bought to lighten the tedium of the long journey, no sooner heard the announcement of his friend’s altered determination, than he shouted out, “It’s no use now, Cursty! for here is a long account of the closing of the Exhibition last Saturday.” Mr. Sandboys’ jaw fell like a carriage dog’s, and, knocking his “wide-awake” on his head, he hurried into the cab, and in a minute the Sandboys family, in company with the Major, were on their way back to Buttermere, Cursty vowing that if there was ever another Exhibition, he would never think of coming up to London again to enjoy himself.

THE END.

Savill & Edwards, Printers, 4, Chandos-street, Covent garden.