All this was, of course, very soothing to the feelings of Mr. Winkle, who remained silent for a few minutes; but at length mustered up resolution to inquire whether Miss Allen was in Kent.

“No, no,” said Mr. Ben Allen, laying aside the poker, and looking very cunning; “I didn’t think Wardle’s exactly the place for a headstrong girl; so, as I am her natural protector and guardian, our parents being dead, I have brought her down into this part of the country to spend a few months at an old aunt’s, in a nice, dull, close place. I think that will cure her, my boy. If it doesn’t, I’ll take her abroad for a little while, and see what that’ll do.”

“Oh, the aunt’s is in Bristol, is it?” faltered Mr. Winkle.