tasy.

"Yes, yes, I hear it," murmured Caleb with the fixed look of a
sleep-walker; "but I don't believe it. It's one of my lies, I've no
doubt."

"You see I--I want to bring the Peerybingles a little more into company
with May Fielding," said Tackleton. "I'm going to be married to May."

"Married!" cried the Blind Girl, starting from him.

"She's such a con-founded idiot," muttered Tackleton, "that I was afraid
she'd never comprehend me. Ah, Bertha! Married! Church, parson, clerk,
beadle, glass coach, bells, breakfast, bridecake, favours, marrow-bones,
cleavers, and all the rest of the tomfoolery. A wedding, you know; a
wedding. Don't you know what a wedding is?"

"I know," replied the Blind Girl in a gentle tone. "I understand!"

"Do you?" muttered Tackleton. "It's more than I expected. Well! On that
account I want to join the party, and to bring May and her mother. I'll
send in a little something or other, before the afternoon. A cold leg of
mutton, or some comfortable trifle of that sort. You'll expect me?"

"Yes," she answered.

She had drooped her head, and turned away; and so stood, with her hands
crossed, musing.

"I don't think you will," muttered Tackleton, looking at her; "for you
seem to have forgotten all about it already. Caleb!"

"I may venture to say I'm here, I suppose," thought Caleb. "Sir!"

"Take care she don't forget what I've been saying to her."

"_She_ never forgets," returned Caleb. "It's one of the few things she
an't clever in."

"Every man thinks his own geese swans," observed the toy merchant with a
shrug. "Poor devil!"

Having delivered himself of which remark with infinite contempt, old
Gruff and Tackleton withdrew.

Bertha remained where he had left her, lost in meditation. The gaiety
had vanished from her downcast face, and it was very sad. Three or four
times she shook her head, as if bewailing some remembrance or some loss;
but her sorrowful reflections found no vent in words.

It was not until Caleb had been occupied some time in yoking a team of
horses to a waggon by the summary process of nailing the harness to the
vital parts of their bodies, that she drew near to his working-stool,
and, sitting down beside him, said:

"Father, I am lonely in the dark. I want my eyes, my patient, willing
eyes."

"Here they are," said Caleb. "Always ready. They are more yours than
mine, Bertha, any hour in the four-and-twenty. What shall your eyes do
for you, dear?"

"Look r