I soon returned to my senses, and by a great effort recovered my spirits at the same time. I laughed and talked, and listened well pleased to my father's glowing picture of the possibility of our retrieving our fortunes by a marriage. I promised him I would sacrifice myself on the hymeneal altar for the good of my family; that I would marry the ugliest, oldest widow he could fix on; that I was anxious to be a benedict on favourable terms; and at all my protestations my father laughed aloud, and patted me on the shoulder. I could not believe it was the same man who had snubbed and bullied me all my life. All of a sudden he looked at his watch.
"Excuse me, my dear boy," he said, "I have engaged to dine with poor Jeeks at five o'clock."
"With whom?" I asked, shuddering at the sound of the name.
"With our neighbour, poor Jeeks," he said. "He has had a terrible dispensation, and is very much softened and improved."
"What dispensation?"
"Ah! I forgot: I was not to let you know. His poor son! he never recovered the accident. Two or three of Mr Shookers's teeth fastened in his head. He has been dead these five weeks: a most promising young man."
I was amazingly shocked at the intelligence.
"Is it for him we are in mourning?" I enquired.
My father nodded.
"Then he was our cousin, after all?"