"The friendly smile of his friend and the imploring glance of Lisette, completely overcame our hero's resentment, and he extended his hand in all gentleness; then turning quickly to the silent, though smiling Leonora, he fell at her feet, exclaiming:
"'Dear lady, we are both victims of our friend's frolic, and there should be no anger between us. I do dislike babies so much, that the sight of one makes me desperate; but now that all is explained, I hope you will forgive me.'
"The lady smiled so encouragingly upon him, that he soon stood face to face—I mean lips to lips—with her.
"'Let us seek a priest,' said Don Philip, with solemnity.
"How this proposition was received, may be assumed from the fact that Dame Margy soon locked up an empty house. How Miguel the Jew conducted
when he awoke next morning; how the families of our friends received the news of their scions' marriages, and how the young gentlemen felt themselves, are matters not explained by history; but it is certain that Don Bobadil and Don Philip were never again in want of ducats, and it is also certain that if any one wished to see an angry man, he could be gratified by eyeing the youngest Banco in a suspicious manner, and asking in mysterious tones—'Who owns the Baby?'"
At the conclusion of this exemplary Spanish tale, my boy, we "adjourned" our slumbers to Willard's.
Yours, drowsily,
Orpheus C. Kerr.