ay come through the keyhole. And now I'll
go to sleep till half-past five, when I must get up to be married, Peg!'

With that, he jocularly tapped Mrs Sliderskew under the chin, and
appeared, for the moment, inclined to celebrate the close of his
bachelor days by imprinting a kiss on her shrivelled lips. Thinking
better of it, however, he gave her chin another tap, in lieu of that
warmer familiarity, and stole away to bed.

CHAPTER 54

The Crisis of the Project and its Result

There are not many men who lie abed too late, or oversleep themselves,
on their wedding morning. A legend there is of somebody remarkable for
absence of mind, who opened his eyes upon the day which was to give him
a young wife, and forgetting all about the matter, rated his servants
for providing him with such fine clothes as had been prepared for the
festival. There is also a legend of a young gentleman, who, not having
before his eyes the fear of the canons of the church for such cases made
and provided, conceived a passion for his grandmother. Both cases are of
a singular and special kind and it is very doubtful whether either
can be considered as a precedent likely to be extensively followed by
succeeding generations.

Arthur Gride had enrobed himself in his marriage garments of
bottle-green, a full hour before Mrs Sliderskew, shaking off her
more heavy slumbers, knocked at his chamber door; and he had hobbled
downstairs in full array and smacked his lips over a scanty taste of his
favourite cordial, ere that delicate piece of antiquity enlightened the
kitchen with her presence.

'Faugh!' said Peg, grubbing, in the discharge of her domestic functions,
among a scanty heap of ashes in the rusty grate. 'Wedding indeed! A
precious wedding! He wants somebody better than his old Peg to take care
of him, does he? And what has he said to me, many and many a time, to
keep me content with short food, small wages, and little fire? "My will,
Peg! my will!" says he: "I'm a bachelor--no friends--no relations, Peg."
Lies! And now he's to bring home a new mistress, a baby-faced chit of a
girl! If he wanted a wife, the fool, why couldn't he have one suitable
to his age, and that knew his ways? She won't come in MY way, he says.
No, that she won't, but you little think why, Arthur boy!'

While Mrs Sliderskew, influenced possibly by some lingering feelings
of disappointment and personal slight, occasioned by her old master's
preference for another,