fashion at
the contorted visage of her husband.

"All except a chair in the kitchen and three stair-rods," said Betty.

"Speak when you're spoke to, miss!" snarled her stepfather. "When we
married we mixed our furniture up together--mixed it up so that it would
be impossible to tell which is which. Nobody could."

"For the matter o' that, you could have all the kitchen chairs and all
the stair-rods," said Mr. Letts, generously. "However, I don't want to
do anything in a hurry, and I shouldn't dream of going to Australia
without Betty. It rests with her."

"She's going to be married," said Mr. Green, hastily; "and if she wasn't
she wouldn't turn her poor, ailing mother out of house and home, that I`m
certain of. She's not that sort. We've had a word or two at times--me
and her--but I know a good daughter when I see one."

"Married?" echoed Mr. Letts, as his left arm relaxed its pressure. "Who
to?"

"Young fellow o' the name of Henry Widden," replied Mr. Green, "a very
steady young fellow; a great friend of mine."

"Oh!" said Mr. Letts, blankly.

"I'd got an idea, which I've been keeping as a little surprise,"
continued Mr. Green, speaking very rapidly, "of them living here with us,
and saving house-rent and furniture."

Mr. Letts surveyed him with a dejected eye.

"It would be a fine start for them," continued the benevolent Mr. Green.

Mr. Letts, by a strong effort, regained his composure.

"I must have a look at him first," he said, briskly. "He mightn't meet
with my approval."

"Eh?" said Mr. Green, starting. "Why, if Betty----"

"I must think it over," interrupted Mr. Letts, with a wave of his hand.
"Betty is only nineteen, and, as head of the family, I don't think she
can marry without my consent. I'm not sure, but I don't think so.
Anyway, if she does, I won't have her husband here sitting in my chairs,
eating off my tables, sleeping in my beds, wearing out my stair-rods,
helping himself----"

"Stow it," said Miss Foster, calmly.

Mr. Letts started, and lost the thread of his discourse. "I must have a
look at him," he concluded, lamely; "he may be all right, but then,
again, he mightn't."

He finished his tea almost in silence, and, the meal over, emphasized his
position as head of the family by taking the easy-chair, a piece of
furniture sacred to Mr. Green, and subjecting that injured man to a
catechism which strained his powers of endurance almost to breaking-
point.

"Well,