he had seen and the moment he began Rady who was close by me began to shake and he was laughing I knew though his face was as grave as Sir Miles.  You never heard such a rigmarole but I could not laugh.  He said he thought he was certain he had seen somebody by the rick and it was Tom Bakewell who was the only man he knew who had a grudge against Farmer Blaize and if the object had been a little bigger he would not mind swearing to Tom and would swear to him for he was dead certain it was Tom only what he saw looked smaller and it was pitch-dark at the time.  He was asked what time it was he saw the person steal away from the rick and then he began to scratch his head and said supper-time.  Then they asked what time he had supper and he said nine o’clock by the clock and we proved that at nine o’clock Tom was drinking in the ale-house with the Tinker at Bursley and Sir Miles swore and said he was afraid he could not commit Tom and when he heard that Tom looked up at me and I say he is a noble fellow and no one shall sneer at Tom while I live.  Mind that.  Well Sir Miles asked us to dine with him and Tom was safe and I am to have him and educate him if I like for my servant and I will.  And I will give money to his mother and make her rich and he shall never repent he knew me.  I say Rip.  The Bantam must have seen me.  It was when I went to stick in the lucifers.  As we were all going home from Sir Miles’s at night he has lots of red-faced daughters but I did not dance with them though they had music and were full of fun and I did not care to I was so delighted and almost let it out.  When we left and rode home Rady said to my father the Bantam was not such a fool as he was thought and my father said one must be in a state of great personal exaltation to apply that epithet to any man and Rady shut his mouth and I gave my pony a clap of the heel for joy.  I think my father suspects what Rady did and does not approve of it.  And he need not have done it after all and might have spoilt it.  I have been obliged to order him not to call me Ricky for he stops short at Rick so that everybody knows what he means.  My dear Austin is going to South America.  My pony is in capital condition.  My father is the cleverest and best man in the world.  Clare is a little better.  I am quite happy.  I hope we shall meet soon my dear Old Rip and we will not get into any more tremendous scrapes will we.—­I remain,
          Your sworn friend,
               “Richard Doria Feverel.”

“P.S.  I am to have a nice River Yacht.  Good-bye, Rip.  Mind you learn to box.  Mind you are not to show this to any of your friends on pain of my displeasure.

“N.B.  Lady B. was so angry when I told her that I had not come to her before.  She would do anything in the world for me.  I like her next best to my father and Austin.  Good-bye old Rip.”

Poor little Letitia, after three perusals of this ingenuous epistle, where the laws of punctuation were so disregarded, resigned it to one of the pockets of her brother Ripton’s best jacket, deeply smitten with the careless composer.  And so ended the last act of the Bakewell Comedy, in which the curtain closes with Sir Austin’s pointing out to his friends the beneficial action of the System in it from beginning to end.