--Traffick's wife's sister, you
know."

"There was something wrong about that," said another. "Benjamin
Batsby, that stupid fellow who used to be in the twentieth, ran off
with her just when everything had been settled between Houston and
old Tringle."

"Not a bit of it," said Battledore. "Tringle had quarrelled with
Houston before that. Batsby did go with her, but the governor
wouldn't come down with the money. Then the girl was brought back
and there was no marriage." Upon that the condition of poor Gertrude
in reference to her lovers and her fortune was discussed by those
present with great warmth; but they all agreed that Houston had
proved himself to be a bigger fool than any of them had expected.

"By George, he's going to set up for painting portraits," said Lord
John, with great disgust.

In Queen's Gate the matter was discussed by the ladies there very
much in the same spirit. At this time Gertrude was engaged to Captain
Batsby, if not with the full approbation at any rate with the consent
both of her father and mother, and therefore she could speak of
Frank Houston and his bride, if with disdain, still without wounded
feelings. "Here it is in the papers, Francis Houston and Imogene
Docimer," said Mrs. Traffick.

"So she has really caught him at last!" said Gertrude.

"There was not much to catch," rejoined Mrs. Traffick. "I doubt
whether they have got L500 a year between them."

"It does seem so very sudden," said Lady Tringle.

"Sudden!" said Gertrude. "They have been about it for the last five
years. Of course he has tried to wriggle out of it all through. I am
glad that she has succeeded at last, if only because he deserves it."

"I wonder where they'll find a place to live in," said Augusta. This
took place in the bedroom which Mrs. Traffick still occupied in
Queen's Gate, when she had been just a month a mother.

Thus, with the kind assistance of Aunt Rosina, Frank Houston and
Imogene Docimer were married at last, and the chronicler hereby
expresses a hope that it may not be long before Frank may see a
picture of his own hanging on the walls of the Academy, and that he
may live to be afraid of the coming of no baby.

CHAPTER LXI.

TOM TRINGLE GOES UPON HIS TRAVELS.

We must again go back and pick up our threads to April, having rushed
forward to be present at the wedding of Frank Houston and Imogene
Docimer, which did not take place till near Midsummer. This we must
do at once in