s. Betts put it tidy again before
luncheon, after the children were gone. Mrs. Betts had fathomed the
whole mystery, and would have been sympathetic about it had not her
young lady manifested an invincible gayety. Bessie hardly knew herself
for joy. She wanted very much to hear the romantic story that must
belong to those bonny children, but she felt that she must wait her
uncle's time to tell it. Happily for her peace, the story was not long
delayed: she learnt it that evening.

This was the scene in Mr. Laurence Fairfax's study. He was seated at
ease in his great leathern chair, and perched on his knee, with one arm
round his neck and a ripe pomegranate cheek pressed against his ear, was
that winsome little lady in blue who was to be known henceforward as the
philosopher's wife: if she had not been so exquisitely pretty it would
have seemed a liberty to take with so much learning. Opposite to them,
and grim as a monumental effigy, sat Miss Jocund, and Bessie Fairfax,
with an amazed and amused countenance, listened and looked on. The
philosopher and his wife were laughing: they loved one another, they had
two dear little boys; what could the world give them or take away in
comparison with such joys? Their secret, long suspected in various
quarters, had transpired publicly since yesterday, and Lady Angleby had
that morning appealed haughtily to Miss Jocund in her own shop to know
how it had all happened.

Miss Jocund now reported what she had answered: "I reckon, your
ladyship, that Dan Cupid is no more open in his tactics than ever he
was. All I have to tell is, that one evening, some six years ago, my
niece Rosy, who was a timid little thing, went for a walk by the river
with a school-fellow, and a hulking, rude boy gave them a fright. Mr.
Laurence Fairfax, by good luck, was in the way and brought them home,
and said to me that Rosy was much too pretty to be allowed to wander out
unprotected. When they met after he had a kind nod and a word for her,
and I've no doubt she had a shy blush for him. A philosopher is but a
man, and liable to fall in love, and that is what he did: he fell in
love with Rosy and married her. It suited all parties to keep it a
secret at first; but a secret is like a birth--when its time is full
forth it must come. Two little boys with Fairfax writ large on their
faces are bad to hide. Therefore it suits all parties now to declare the
marriage. And that is the whole story, an' it please your l