this minute of speaking, as he had then, that
he would far rather have had it out in half-a-
dozen rounds with the Governor, than have
combined with him; and that he wished with
all his heart there was any impossible place
where those two babies could make an
impossible marriage, and live impossibly happy
ever afterwards. However, as it couldn't be,
he went into the Governor's plans, and the
Governor set off for York in half-an-hour.

The way in which the women of that house
—without exception—every one of 'em—
married and single—took to that boy when
they heard the story, Boots considers
surprising. It was as much as he could do
to keep 'em from dashing into the room and
kissing him. They climbed up all sorts of
places, at the risk of their lives, to look at him
through a pane of glass. They was seven
deep at the key-hole. They was out of their
minds about him and his bold spirit.

In the evening, Boots went into the room,
to see how the runaway couple was getting
on. The gentleman was on the window-seat,
supporting the lady in his arms. She had
tears upon her face, and was lying, very tired
and half asleep, with her head upon his
shoulder,

"Mrs. Harry Walmers Junior, fatigued,
sir? " says Cobbs.

"Yes, she is tired, Cobbs; but, she is not
used to be away from home, and she has been
in low spirits again. Cobbs, do you think
you could bring a biffin, please?"

"I ask your pardon, sir," says Cobbs.
"What was it you?—"

"I think a Norfolk biffin would rouse her,
Cobbs. She is very fond of them."

Boots withdrew in search of the required
restorative, and, when he brought it in, the
gentleman handed it to the lady, and fed her
with a spoon, and took a little himself. The
lady being heavy with sleep, and rather cross,
"What should you think, sir," says Cobbs,
"of a chamber candlestick? " The gentleman
approved; the chambermaid went first, up
the great staircase; the lady, in her sky-blue
mantle, followed, gallantly escorted by the
gentleman; the gentleman embraced her at
her door, and retired to his own apartment,
where Boots softly locked him up.

Boots couldn't but feel with increased
acuteness what a base deceiver he was, when
they consulted him at breakfast (they had
ordered sweet milk-and-water, and toast and
currant jelly, overnight), about the pony. It
really was as much as he could do, he don't
mind confessing to me, to look them two
young things in the face, and think what
a wicked old father of lies he had grown
up to be. Howsomever, he went on
lying like a Trojan, about the pony. He told
'em that it did so unfort'nately happen that
the pony was half clipped, you see, and that
he couldn't be taken out in that state, for fear
it should strike to his inside. But, that he'd
be finished clipping in the course of the day,
and that to morrow morning at eight o'clock
the pheayton would be ready. Boots's view
of the whole case, looking back upon it in
my room, is, that Mrs. Harry Walmers
Junior was beginning to give in. She hadn't
had her hair curled when she went to bed,
and she didn't seem quite up to brushing it
herself, and it's getting in her eyes put her
out. But, nothing put out Master Harry.
He sat behind his breakfast-cup, a tearing
away at the jelly, as if he had been his own
father.

After breakfast, Boots is inclined to
consider that they drawed soldiers—at least, he
knows that many such was found in the fire-
place, all on horseback. In the course of the
morning, Master Harry rang the bell—it was
surprising how that there boy did carry
on—and said in a sprightly way, " Cobbs, is
there any good walks in this neighbourhood?"

"Yes, sir," says Cobbs. " There's Love
Lane."

"Get out with you, Cobbs! "—that was
that there boy's expression—" you're joking."

"Begging your pardon, sir," says Cobbs,
"there really is Love Lane. And a pleasant
walk it is, and proud shall I be to show it to
yourself and Mrs. Harry Walmers Junior."

"Norah, dear," said Master Harry, " this
is curious. We really ought to see Love
Lane. Put on your bonnet, my sweetest
darling, and we will go there with Cobbs."

Boots leaves me to judge what a Beast he
felt himself to be, when that young pair told
him, they all three jogged along together,
that they had made up their minds to give
him two thousand guineas a year as head
gardener, on accounts of his being so true a
friend to 'em. Boots could have wished at
the moment that the earth would have opened
and swallerd him up; he felt so mean, with
their beaming eyes a-looking at him, and
believing him. Well, sir, he turned the
conversation as well as he could, and he took
'em down Love Lane to the water-meadows,
and there Master Harry would have drownded
himself in half a moment more, a-getting out
a water-lily for her—but nothing daunted
that boy. Well, sir, they was tired out. All
being so new and strange to 'em, they was
tired as tired could be. And they laid down on
a bank of daisies, like the children in the
wood, leastways meadows, and fell asleep.

Boots don't know—perhaps I do—but
never mind, it don't signify either way—why
it made a man fit to make a fool of himself,
to see them two pretty babies a lying there
in the clear still sunny day, not dreaming
half so hard when they was asleep, as they
done when they was awake. But, Lord! when
you come to think of yourself, you know, and
what a game you have been up to ever since
you was in your own cradle, and what a poor
sort of a chap you are, and how it's always
either Yesterday with you, or else To-mor-
row, and never To-day, that's where it is!
Well, sir, they woke up at last, and then