gainst friends," he said. "But it do seem a
rare curiosity for a couple to marry over again! If they couldn't
get on the first time when their minds were limp, they won't the
second, by my reckoning."

"Do you think he'll do it?"

"He's been put upon his honour by the woman, so he med."

"He'd hardly do it straight off like this. He's got no licence nor
anything."

"She's got that, bless you. Didn't you hear her say so to her
father?"

"Well," said Tinker Taylor, relighting his pipe at the gas-jet.
"Take her all together, limb by limb, she's not such a bad-looking
piece--particular by candlelight. To be sure, halfpence that have
been in circulation can't be expected to look like new ones from
the mint. But for a woman that's been knocking about the four
hemispheres for some time, she's passable enough. A little bit thick
in the flitch perhaps: but I like a woman that a puff o' wind won't
blow down."

Their eyes followed the movements of the little girl as she spread
the breakfast-cloth on the table they had been using, without wiping
up the slops of the liquor. The curtains were undrawn, and the
expression of the house made to look like morning. Some of the
guests, however, fell asleep in their chairs. One or two went to the
door, and gazed along the street more than once. Tinker Taylor was
the chief of these, and after a time he came in with a leer on his
face.

"By Gad, they are coming! I think the deed's done!"

"No," said Uncle Joe, following him in. "Take my word, he turned
rusty at the last minute. They are walking in a very unusual way;
and that's the meaning of it!"

They waited in silence till the wedding-party could be heard entering
the house. First into the room came Arabella boisterously; and her
face was enough to show that her strategy had succeeded.

"Mrs. Fawley, I presume?" said Tinker Taylor with mock courtesy.

"Certainly. Mrs. Fawley again," replied Arabella blandly, pulling
off her glove and holding out her left hand. "There's the padlock,
see... Well, he was a very nice, gentlemanly man indeed. I mean
the clergyman. He said to me as gentle as a babe when all was done:
'Mrs. Fawley, I congratulate you heartily,' he says. 'For having
heard your history, and that of your husband, I think you have both
done the right and proper thing. And for your past errors as a wife,
and his as a husband, I think you ought now to be forgiven by the
world, as you have forgiven e