the injury to his foot. Captain Barber did not return until the tea
was set, and then shaking hands with his nephew, took a seat opposite,
and in a manner more than unusually boisterous, kept up a long
conversation.

It was a matter of surprise to Flower that, though the talk was by no
means of a sorrowful nature, Mrs. Church on three separate occasions
rose from the table and left the room with her handkerchief to her eyes.
At such times his uncle's ideas forsook him, and he broke off not only
in the middle of a sentence, but even in the middle of a word. At the
third time Flower caught his eye, and with a dumb jerk of his head
toward the door enquired what it all meant.

"Tell you presently," said his uncle, in a frightened whisper, "Hush!
Don't take no notice of it. Not a word."

"What is it?" persisted Flower.

Captain Barber gave a hurried glance towards the door and then leaned
over the table "Broken 'art," he whispered, sorrowfully.

Flower whistled, and, full of the visions which this communication
opened up, neglected to join in the artificial mirth which his uncle was
endeavouring to provoke upon the housekeeper's return. Finally he worked
up a little mirth on his own account, and after glancing from his uncle
to the housekeeper, and from the housekeeper back to his uncle again,
smothered his face in his handkerchief and rushed from the room.

"Bit on a bad tooth," he said, untruthfully, when he came back.

Captain Barber eyed him fiercely, but Mrs. Church regarded him with
compassionate interest, and, having got the conversation upon such a
safe subject, kept it there until the meal was finished.

"What's it all about?" enquired Flower, as, tea finished, Captain Barber
carried his chair to the extreme end of the garden and beckoned his
nephew to do likewise.

"You're the cause of it," said Captain Barber, severely.

"Me?" said Flower, in surprise.

"You know that little plan I told you of when you was down here?" said
the other.

His nephew nodded.

"It came off," groaned Captain Barber. "I've got news for you as'll make
you dance for joy."

"I've got a bad foot," said Flower, paling.

"Never mind about your foot," said his uncle, regarding him fixedly.
"Your banns are up."

"Up! Up where?" gasped Flower.

"Why--in the church," said the other, staring at him; "where do you
think? I got the old lady's consent day before yesterday, and had 'em
put up at once."

"Is she dead, then?" enqui