"Well, after all," thought I, "I can scarcely be disappointed; if such an ugly scoundrel as Sylvester had no difficulty in getting such a nice wife as Ursula, surely I, who am not a tenth part so ugly, cannot fail to obtain the hand of Isopel Berners, uncommonly fine damsel though she be.
Husbands do not grow upon hedge rows; she is merely gone after a little business and will return to-morrow." Comforted in some degree by these hopeful imaginings, I retired to my tent, and went to sleep..