Once, during the sermon, after attentively regarding Mr.
Leighton for a few minutes, he suddenly produced his gold pencil-case and snatched up a Bible.

Perceiving that I observed the movement, he whispered that he was going to make a note of the sermon; but instead of that, as I sat next him, I could not help seeing that he was making a caricature of the preacher, giving to the respectable, pious, elderly gentleman, the air and aspect of a most absurd old hypocrite.

And yet, upon his return, he talked to my aunt about the sermon with a degree of modest, serious discrimination that tempted me to believe he had really attended to and profited by the discourse.
Just before dinner my uncle called me into the library for the discussion of a very important matter, which was dismissed in few words.
'Now, Nell,' said he, 'this young Huntingdon has been asking for you: what must I say about it?
Your aunt would answer "no"-- but what say you ?' 'I say yes, uncle,' replied I, without a moment's hesitation; for I had thoroughly made up my mind on the subject.
'Very good!' cried he.

'Now that's a good honest answer--wonderful for a girl!--Well, I'll write to your father to-morrow.

He's sure to give his consent; so you may look on the matter as settled.