by Mr. Jingle), in which the words bowl sparkling ruby bright,
and wine are frequently repeated at short intervals. We fancy too, that we can
discern at the very end of the notes, some indistinct reference to broiled
bones; and then the words cold without occur: but as any hypothesis we could
found upon them must necessarily rest upon mere conjecture, we are not disposed
to indulge in any of the speculations to which they may give rise.
    We will therefore return to Mr. Tupman; merely adding that within some few
minutes before twelve o'clock that night, the convocation of worthies of Dingley
Dell and Muggleton were heard to sing, with great feeling and emphasis, the
beautiful and pathetic national air of
 
We won't go home 'till morning,
We won't go home 'till morning,
We won't go home 'till morning,
'Till daylight doth appear.
 

                                  Chapter VIII

  Strongly Illustrative of the Position, That the Course of True Love Is Not a
                                    Railway.

The quiet seclusion of Dingley Dell, the presence of so many of the gentler sex,
and the solicitude and anxiety they evinced in his behalf, were all favourable
to the growth and development of those softer feelings which nature had
implanted deep in the bosom of Mr. Tracy Tupman, and which now appeared destined
to centre in one lovely object. The young ladies were pretty, their manners
winning, their dispositions unexceptionable; but there was a dignity in the air,
a touch-me-not-ishness in the walk, a majesty in the eye of the spinster aunt,
to which, at their time of life, they could lay no claim, which distinguished
her from any female on whom Mr. Tupman had ever gazed. That there was something
kindred in their nature, something congenial in their souls, something
mysteriously sympathetic in their bosoms, was evident. Her name was the first
that rose to Mr. Tupman's lips as he lay wounded on the grass; and her hysteric
laughter was the first sound that fell upon his ear when he was supported to the
house. But had her agitation arisen from an amiable and feminine sensibility
which would have been equally irrepressible in any case; or had it been called
forth by a more ardent and passionate feeling, which he, of all men living,
could alone awaken? These were the doubts which racked his brain as he lay
extended on the sofa: these were the doubts which he determined should be at
once and for ever resolved.
    It was evening. Isabella and Emily had strolled out with Mr. Trundle; the
deaf