s there, looking very pale through all his
sun-brownness. And says he, 'I suppose the will's got to be read,
but my father, he told me what I was to expect. It's all to me, and
one hundred to Mrs. Blake, and five pounds apiece to the servants.'

And Mr. Sigglesfield looks at him out of his ferret eyes, and says
very quietly, 'I think the will had better be read, Mr. Alderton.'

'So I think,' says Mrs. Blake, tossing her head and rubbing her red
eyes with her handkerchief at the same minute almost.

And read it was, and all us people sat still as mice, listening to
the wonderful tale of it. For wonderful it was, though folded up
very curious and careful in a pack of lawyer's talk. And when it was
finished, Master Harry stood up on his feet, and he said--

'I don't understand your cursed lawyer's lingo. Does this mean that
my father has left me fifty pounds, and has left the rest, stock,
lock and barrel, to his wife Martha. Who in hell,' he says, 'is his
wife Martha?'

And at that Mrs. Blake stood up and fetched a curtsy to the company.

'That's me,' she said, 'by your leave; married two months come
Tuesday, and here's my lines.'

And there they were. There was no getting over them. Married at St.
Mary Woolnoth, in London, by special licence.

'O you wicked old Jezebel!' says Master Harry, shaking his fist at
her; 'here's a fine end for a young man's hopes! Is it true?' says
he, turning to the lawyer. And Mr. Sigglesfield shakes his head and
says--

'I am afraid so, my poor fellow.'

'Jezebel, indeed!' cries Mrs. Blake. 'Out of my house, my young
gamecock! Get out and crow on your own dunghill, if you can find
one.'

And Harry turned and went without a word. Then I slipped out too,
and I snatched my old bonnet and shawl off their peg in the kitchen,
and I ran down the lane after him.

'Harry,' says I, and he turned and looked at me like something
that's hunted looks when it gets in a corner and turns on you. Then
I got up with him and caught hold of his arm with both my hands.
'Never mind the dirty money,' says I. 'What's a bit of money,' I
says--'what is it, my dear, compared with true love? I'll work my
fingers to the bone for you,' says I, 'and we're better off than her
when all's said and done.'

'So we are, my girl,' says he; and the savage look went out of his
face, and he kissed me for the second time.

Then we went home, arm-under-arm, to my mother's, and we told father
and mother all about it;