"Miss Rachel has led you off on a false scent, my dear," I replied; "but MY nose is not so easily mystified.
Wait till Mr.Ablewhite's verses are followed by Mr.Ablewhite himself." My daughter replied, that Mr.Franklin might strike in, and try his luck, before the verses were followed by the poet.

In favour of this view, I must acknowledge that Mr.Franklin left no chance untried of winning Miss Rachel's good graces.
Though one of the most inveterate smokers I ever met with, he gave up his cigar, because she said, one day, she hated the stale smell of it in his clothes.

He slept so badly, after this effort of self-denial, for want of the composing effect of the tobacco to which he was used, and came down morning after morning looking so haggard and worn, that Miss Rachel herself begged him to take to his cigars again.

No! he would take to nothing again that could cause her a moment's annoyance; he would fight it out resolutely, and get back his sleep, sooner or later, by main force of patience in waiting for it.

Such devotion as this, you may say (as some of them said downstairs), could never fail of producing the right effect on Miss Rachel--backed up, too, as it was, by the decorating work every day on the door.