About six months after this, a gentleman and lady passing, bowed to Creswell through his office window while an acquaintance was sitting with him.
“A magnificent looking couple—who are they?” said the latter.
“The new bride and groom, Stanley Saybrooke, and Martha Grainger, that was. By the by, I made that match.”
“Indeed! how did you accomplish it?”
“Just by persuading the lady to sit still for a few hours. He had a most absurd aversion to large women, and as I knew that Martha, who, in fact, is a sort of cousin of mine, would suit him exactly in other respects, I laid a plan to get him in love with her before he found out her size, so I took him to a fancy-fair, where he saw a great number of her productions, and heard a great deal of her character, and then I contrived to give him a sight of her beautiful face, having, as I said, apprised her that she would oblige me very much by keeping her seat until I gave her notice. That finished the business. He stared till he was conquered, and then the three or four extra inches became very small matters indeed.”
“But now, since they are married, won’t the defects shoot up again?”
“Not at all. I never saw a fellow so proud of a wife. He says that a small casket could not contain so lofty an intellect and so noble a heart!”
LE FAINEANT.
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