In this agreeable interval, my wife had the most lucky dreams in the world, which she took care to tell us every morning, with great solemnity and exactness.

It was one night a coffin and cross bones, the sign of an approaching wedding: at another time she imagined her daughters' pockets filled with farthings, a certain sign of their being shortly stuffed with gold.

The girls themselves had their omens.

They felt strange kisses on their lips; they saw rings in the candle, purses bounced from the fire, and true love-knots lurked in the bottom of every tea-cup.
Towards the end of the week we received a card from the town ladies; in which, with their compliments, they hoped to see all our family at church the Sunday following.

All Saturday morning I could perceive, in consequence of this, my wife and daughters in close conference together, and now and then glancing at me with looks that betrayed a latent plot.
To be sincere, I had strong suspicions that some absurd proposal was preparing for appearing with splendor the next day.