ach; and after he'd gone I got in the house so limp as a dead rat. I'd
bluffed it all right to Gregory; but when my flame cooled, I found the
tears on my face and let 'em run for an hour. Then I calmed down and
licked my bruises, so to speak, and felt a terrible wish for to hear a
friendly fellow creature and get a bit of sympathy out of someone. For I'm
a very sociable kind of woman; so I put on my bonnet and was just going
round to see Mrs. Vincent and ask after the new baby and then tell my
tale, her being a dear friend to me and her family also, when another man
came to my door and there stood my son Rupert--him known as 'Mother's
Misfortune,' to distinguish him from my dear eldest one.

I wasn't in no mood for Rupert, and I told him so, but I marked he was
mildly excited, and that being a most unusual state for him, I stopped
five minutes and axed him what he'd come for.

"You'll laugh," he said sitting down and lighting his pipe.

"I ain't in a very laughing temper," I answered, "and if I laugh at
anything you say, it will be the first time in your life I ever have
done."

"Dry up," he said, "and listen. I've just come for a bit of a tell with
Minnie Parable."

Then I forgot myself.

"To hell with Minnie Parable!" I cried out. "I don't want to hear nothing
about that misbegot vixen."

For once Rupert was astonished, but he weren't so astonished as me a
minute later.

"I'm sorry you take that view," he replied; "because she'll be your
daughter-in-law in six weeks. I be going to marry her."

I never can stand more'n one shock a day, and now I felt myself getting
out of hand terrible fast. But I drawed in a deep breath of air and fell
on my chair.

"There's a good deal more in that woman than meets the eye," went on
Rupert. "Her face would frighten a hedge-pig, no doubt, and her shape be
mournful; but I ain't one to marry for decorations. She's a woman, and she
can cook and she knows the value of money, and also knows my opinions on
that subject. I didn't find her a bad sort by no means. She's got sense
and she ain't a gadder, and would rather work than play, same as me."

"But her temper, Rupert, her famous temper," I murmured to the man, "and
her woeful, craakin voice."

"Nobody won't hear no more about her famous temper," he said, "not after
she's married me. If I don't cast her temper out of her in a week, then I
ain't the man I count myself; and as for her voice, that won't trouble me
neither. I'm