t
on the ground, he must have seen me; as it was, I only narrowly avoided
him, and fell again into my place behind him. All the way back to our
garden I followed him. As he passed through the gate, I quickened my
pace, overtook him, and laid my hand on his arm. The man's face gave
me what I remember my old nurse used to call "quite a turn."

"You're an average idiot, aren't you?" said I. "Oh, yes; I've been
squatting in the wet by that infernal river, too. You ought to get
three months, by rights."

He looked at me in a dazed sort of way.

"I daren't," he said. "I wanted to, but I daren't."

There is really nothing more. We went to the wedding, leaving Smugg in
bed; and in the evening we, leaving Smugg still in bed (I told Mary to
keep an eye on him), and carrying a dozen of the grocer's best port,
went up to dance at Dill's farm. Joe was polished till I could almost
see myself in his cheek, and Pyrrha looked more charming than ever.
She and Joe were to leave us early, to go to Joe's own house in the
village, but I managed to get one dance with her. Indeed, I believe
she wanted a word with me.

"Well, all's well that ends well, isn't it?" I began. "No more
scoldings! Not from Mrs. Dill, anyhow."

"You can't let that alone, sir," said Pyrrha.

I chuckled gently.

"Oh, I'll never refer to it again," said I. "This is a fine wedding of
yours, Betsy."

"It's good of you and the other gentlemen to come, sir."

"We had to see the last of you," and I sighed very ostentatiously.

Pyrrha laughed. She did not believe in it, and she knew that I knew
she did not, but the little compliment pleased her, all the same.

"Smugg," I pursued, "is ill in bed. But perhaps he wouldn't have come,
anyhow."

"If you please, sir----" Pyrrha began; but she stopped.

"Yes, Betsy? What is it?"

"Would you take a message for me, sir?"

"If it's a proper one, Betsy, for a married lady to send."

She laughed a little, and said:

"Oh, it's no harm, sir. I'm afraid he aint--he's rather down, sir."

"Who?"

"Why, that Smugg, sir."

"Oh, that Smugg! Why, yes; a little down, Betsy, I fear."

"You might tell him as I bear no malice, sir--as I'm not angry--with
him, I mean."

"Certainly," said I. "It will probably do him good."

"He got me into trouble; but there, I can make allowances; and it's all
right now, sir."

"In fact you forgive him?"

"I think you might tell him so, sir," said Betsy.

"But," sai