could manage it—would manage it—and he was
so very much pleased by my acquiescence, that I
was pleased too. At his particular request, I
appointed to call for him at the Castle at half-
past eight on Monday morning, and so we
parted for the time.

Punctual to my appointment, I rang at the
Castle gate on the Monday morning, and was
received by Wemmick himself: who struck me
as looking tighter than usual, and having a
sleeker hat on. Within, there were two glasses
of rum-and-milk prepared, and two biscuits. The
Aged must have been stirring with the lark, for,
glancing into the perspective of his bedroom, I
observed that his bed was empty.

When we had fortified ourselves with the rum-
and-milk and biscuits, and were going out for the
walk with that training preparation on us, I was
considerably surprised to see Wemmick take up
a fishing-rod, and put it over his shoulder.
"Why, we are not going fishing!" said I.
"No," returned Wemmick, " but I like to walk
with one."

I thought this odd; however, I said nothing,
and we set off. We went towards Camberwell
Green, and when we were thereabouts,
Wemmick said suddenly:

"Halloa! Here's a church!"

There was nothing very surprising in that;
but again, I was rather surprised, when he said,
as if he were animated by a brilliant idea:

"Let's go in!"

We went in, Wemmick leaving his fishing-
rod in the porch, and looked all round. In the
mean time, Wemmick was diving into his coat-
pockets, and getting something out of paper
there.

"Halloa!" said he. " Here's a couple of
pair of gloves! Let's put 'em on!"

As the gloves were white kid gloves, and as
the post-office was widened to its utmost extent,
I now began to have my strong suspicions. They
were strengthened into certainty when I beheld
the Aged enter at a side door, escorting a lady.

"Halloa!" said Wemmick. "Here's Miss
Skiffins! Let's have a wedding."

That discreet damsel was attired as usual,
except that she was now engaged in substituting
for her green kid gloves, a pair of white. The
Aged was likewise occupied in preparing a similar
sacrifice for the altar of Hymen. The old
gentleman, however, experienced so much
difficulty in getting his gloves on, that Wemmick
found it necessary to put him with his back
against a pillar, and then to get behind the
pillar himself and pull away at them, while I
for my part held the old gentleman round the
waist, that he might present an equal and safe
resistance. By dint of this ingenious scheme,
his gloves were got on to perfection.

The clerk and clergyman then appearing, we
were ranged in order at those fatal rails. True
to his notion of seeming to do it all without
preparation, I heard Wemmick say to himself as
he took something out of his waistcoat-pocket
before the service began, " Halloa! Here's a
ring!"

I acted in the capacity of backer, or best-
man, to the bridegroom; while a little limp pew
opener in a soft bonnet like a baby's, made a
feint of being the bosom friend of Miss Skiffins.
The responsibility of giving the lady away,
devolved upon the Aged, which led to the clergyman's
being unintentionally scandalised, and it
happened thus. When he said, "Who giveth
this woman to be married to this man?" the
old gentleman, not in the least knowing what
point of the ceremony we had arrived at, stood
most amiably beaming at the ten commandments.
Upon which, the clergyman said again, " WHO
giveth this woman to be married to this man?"
The old gentleman being still in a state of most
estimable unconsciousness, the bridegroom cried
out in his accustomed voice, " Now, Aged P.,
you know; who giveth?" To which the Aged
replied with great briskness, before saying that
he gave, " All right, John, all right, my boy!"
And the clergyman came to so gloomy a pause
upon it, that I had doubts for the moment
whether we should get completely married that
day.

It was completely done, however, and when
we were going out of church, Wemmick took
the cover off the font, and put his white
gloves in it, and put the cover on again. Mrs.
Wemmick, more heedful of the future, put
her white gloves in her pocket and assumed
her green. "Now, Mr. Pip," said Wemmick,
triumphantly shouldering the fishing-rod as
we came out, "let me ask you whether anybody
would suppose this to be a wedding
party!"

Breakfast had been ordered at a pleasant
little tavern, a mile or so away upon the rising
ground beyond the Green; and there was a
bagatelle board in the room, in case we should
desire to unbend our minds after the solemnity.
It was pleasant to observe that Mrs. Wemmick
no longer unwound Wemmick's arm when it
adapted itself to her figure, but sat in a high-
backed chair against the wall, like a violoncello
in its case, and submitted to be embraced
as that melodious instrument might have
done.

We had an excellent breakfast, and when any
one declined anything on table, Wemmick said,
"Provided by contract, you know; don't be
afraid of it! " I drank to the new couple,
drank to the Aged, drank to the Castle, saluted
the bride at parting, and made myself as agreeable
as I could.

Wemmick came down to the door with me,
and I again shook hands with him, and wished
him joy.

"Thank'ee!" said Wemmick, rubbing his
hands. " She's such a manager of fowls, you
have no idea. You shall have some eggs, and
judge for yourself. I say, Mr. Pip!" calling
me back, and speaking low. "This is altogether
a Walworth sentiment, please."

"I understand. Not to be mentioned in
Little Britain," said I.

Wemmick nodded. " After what you let out
the other day, Mr. Jaggers may as well not