MR. PROSPER SHOWS HIS GOOD-NATURE.
While these things were going on at Tretton, and while Mr. Scarborough
was making all arrangements for the adequate disposition of his
property,--in doing which he had happily come to the conclusion that
there was no necessity for interfering with what the law had
settled,--Mr. Prosper was lying very ill at Buston, and was endeavoring
on his sick-bed to reconcile himself to what the entail had done for
him. There could be no other heir to him but Harry Annesley. As he
thought of the unmarried ladies of his acquaintance, he found that there
was no one who would have done for him but Miss Puffle and Matilda
Thoroughbung. All others were too young or too old, or chiefly
penniless. Miss Puffle would have been the exact thing--only for that
intruding farmer's son.
As he lay there alone in his bedroom his mind used to wander a little,
and he would send for Matthew, his butler, and hold confidential
discussions with him. "I never did think, sir, that Miss Thoroughbung
was exactly the lady," said Matthew.
"Why not?"
"Well, sir, there is a saying--But you'll excuse me."
"Go on, Matthew."
"There is a saying as how 'you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's
ear.'"
"I've heard that.
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