_you_ may call it happily and so may the lovers, but _I_ call it
very disappointing,' said Miss Martin.

'Tell us all about it!' cried Logan.

'Well, I went down, simple as you see me.'

'_Simplex munditiis_!' said Merton.

'And was met at the station by young Mr. Warren. His father, with the
wisdom of a Nonconformist serpent, had sent him alone to make my
acquaintance and be fascinated. My things were put on a four-wheeler. I
was all young enthusiasm in the manner of _The Young Girl_. He was a
good-looking boy enough, though in a bowler hat, with turn-down collar.
But he was gloomy. I was curious about the public buildings, ecstatic
about the town hall, and a kind of Moeso-Gothic tabernacle (if it was not
Moeso-Gothic in style I don't know what it was) where the Rev. Mr. Truman
holds forth. But I could not waken him up, he seemed miserable. I soon
found out the reason. The placards of the local newspapers shrieked in
big type with

SPREAD OF SMALLPOX.
135 CASES.

When I saw that I took young Mr. Warren's hand.'

'Were you wearing the ring?' asked Merton.

'No; it was in my dressing-bag. I said, "Mr. Warren, I know what care
clouds your brow. You are brooding over the fate of the young, the fair,
the beloved--the unvaccinated. I know the story of your heart."

'"How the D--- I mean, how do you know, Miss Martin, about my private
affairs?"

'"A little bird has told me," I said (style of _The Young Girl_, you
know). "I have friends in Bulcester who esteem you. No, I must not
mention names, but I come, not too late, I hope, to bring you security.
She shall be preserved from this awful scourge, and you shall be her
preserver." He wanted to know how it was to be done, of course, and
after taking his word of honour for secrecy, I told him that the remedy
would lie in his own hands, showed him the ring, and taught him how to
work it. Mr. Squeers,' went on Miss Martin, 'had never wopped a boy in a
cab before, and I had never beheld a scene of passionate emotion
before--in a four-wheeler. He called me his preserver, he said that I
was an angel, he knelt at my feet, and, if we had been on the stage--as
Mr. Merton said--'

'And were you on the stage?' asked Merton.

'That is neither here nor there. It was an instructive experience, and
you little know the treasures of passion that may lie concealed in the
heart of a young oilcloth manufacturer.'

'Happy young oilcloth manufacturer!' murmure