s of the exhibition they came expressly to see.

It is the popular day, the shilling day, and of the fast arriving
excursion trains two from different directions enter the two
contiguous railway stations at almost the same minute. One, like
several which have preceded it, comes from London: the other by a
cross-line from Aldbrickham; and from the London train alights a
couple; a short, rather bloated man, with a globular stomach and
small legs, resembling a top on two pegs, accompanied by a woman of
rather fine figure and rather red face, dressed in black material,
and covered with beads from bonnet to skirt, that made her glisten
as if clad in chain-mail.

They cast their eyes around. The man was about to hire a fly as some
others had done, when the woman said, "Don't be in such a hurry,
Cartlett. It isn't so very far to the show-yard. Let us walk down
the street into the place. Perhaps I can pick up a cheap bit of
furniture or old china. It is years since I was here--never since
I lived as a girl at Aldbrickham, and used to come across for a trip
sometimes with my young man."

"You can't carry home furniture by excursion train," said, in a thick
voice, her husband, the landlord of The Three Horns, Lambeth; for
they had both come down from the tavern in that "excellent, densely
populated, gin-drinking neighbourhood," which they had occupied ever
since the advertisement in those words had attracted them thither.
The configuration of the landlord showed that he, too, like his
customers, was becoming affected by the liquors he retailed.

"Then I'll get it sent, if I see any worth having," said his wife.

They sauntered on, but had barely entered the town when her attention
was attracted by a young couple leading a child, who had come out
from the second platform, into which the train from Aldbrickham had
steamed. They were walking just in front of the inn-keepers.

"Sakes alive!" said Arabella.

"What's that?" said Cartlett.

"Who do you think that couple is? Don't you recognize the man?"

"No."

"Not from the photos I have showed you?"

"Is it Fawley?"

"Yes--of course."

"Oh, well. I suppose he was inclined for a little sight-seeing like
the rest of us." Cartlett's interest in Jude whatever it might have
been when Arabella was new to him, had plainly flagged since her
charms and her idiosyncrasies, her supernumerary hair-coils, and her
optional dimples, were becoming as a tale that is told.