aid Mr. Kybird, shaking his head.
"A little joke like that; a little innercent joke."

"If it 'ad been a darning-needle now--" began Mrs. Kybird.

"All right," said the desperate Mr. Silk, "'ave it your own way. Let
'Melia marry 'im--I don't care---I give 'er up."

"Teddy!" said Mr. Kybird, in a shocked voice. "Teddy!"

Mr. Silk thrust him fiercely to one side and passed raging through the
shop. The sound of articles falling in all directions attested to his
blind haste, and the force with which he slammed the shop-door was
sufficient evidence of his state of mind.

"Well, upon my word," said the staring Mr. Kybird; "of all the
outrageyous--"

"Never mind 'im," said his wife, who was sitting in the easy chair,
distributing affectionate smiles between her daughter and the startled
Mr. Nugent. "Make 'er happy, Jack, that's all I arsk. She's been a good
gal, and she'll make a good wife. I've seen how it was between you for
some time."

"So 'ave I," said Mr. Kybird. He shook hands warmly with Mr. Nugent,
and, patting that perturbed man on the back, surveyed him with eyes
glistening with approval.

"It's a bit rough on Teddy, isn't it?" inquired Mr. Nugent, anxiously;
"besides--"

"Don't you worry about 'im," said Mr. Kybird, affectionately. "He ain't
worth it."

"I wasn't," said Mr. Nugent, truthfully. The situation had developed so
rapidly that it had caught him at a disadvantage. He had a dim feeling
that, having been the cause of Miss Kybird's losing one young man, the
most elementary notions of chivalry demanded that he should furnish her
with another. And this idea was clearly uppermost in the minds of her
parents. He looked over at Amelia and with characteristic philosophy
accepted the position.

"We shall be the handsomest couple in Sunwich," he said, simply.

"Bar none," said Mr. Kybird, emphatically.

The stout lady in the chair gazed ax the couple fondly. "It reminds me
of our wedding," she said, softly. "What was it Tom Fletcher said,
father? Can you remember?"

"'Arry Smith, you mean," corrected Mr. Kybird.

"Tom Fletcher said something, I'm sure," persisted his wife.

"He did," said Mr. Kybird, grimly, "and I pretty near broke 'is 'ead for
it. 'Arry Smith is the one you're thinking of."

Mrs. Kybird after a moment's reflection admitted that he was right, and,
the chain of memory being touched, waxed discursive about her own wedding
and the somewhat exciting details which ac