words you 'ave t' saiy," mumbled Mrs. Purr.

"Ho," said Deborah, scornfully, "I'd like to see me say 'em to sich a
scrub as Bart."

But say them she did at the altar, being compelled to do so by the
vicar. But when the ceremony was over, the newly-made Mrs. Tawsey took
Bart by the arm and shook him. He was small and lean and of a nervous
nature, so he quivered like a jelly in his wife's tremendous grip.
Deborah was really ignorant of her own strength.

"You 'ark to me, Bart," said she, while the best man and bridesmaid
walked on ahead talking lovingly. "I said them words, which you oughter
'ave said, 'cause you ain't got no memory t' speak of. But they ain't my
beliefs, but yours, or I'll know the reason why. Jes' you say them now.
Swear, without Billingsgate, as you'll allays love, honor an' obey your
lovin' wife."

Bart, still being shaken, gasped out the words, and then gave his arm to
the lady who was to rule his life. Deborah kissed him in a loud, hearty
way, and led him in triumph to the cottage. Here Mrs. Purr had prepared
a simple meal, and the health of the happy pair was proposed by Paul.
Mrs. Purr toasted them in gin, and wept as she did so. A dismal, tearful
old woman was Mrs. Purr, and she was about to open her mouth, in order
to explain what she thought would come of the marriage, when Mrs. Tawsey
stopped her.

"None of them groans," cried Deborah, with vigor. "I won't have my
weddings made funerals. 'Old your tongue, Mrs. Purr, and you, Bart, jes'
swear to love, honor an' obey my pretty as you would your own lawful
wife, and the ceremonies is hoff."

Bart performed the request, and then Paul, laughing at the oddity of it
all, took his leave. On walking to the gate, he was overtaken by Mrs.
Purr, who winked mysteriously. "Whatever you do, sir," said the lean old
creature, with many contortions of her withered face, "don't have
nothin' to do with Tray."

"Tray," echoed Paul in surprise. "Mr. Pash's office boy?"

"Him and none other. I knows his grandmother, as 'as bin up for drunk
two hundred times, and is proud of it. Stretchers is as common to her,
sir, as kissings is to a handsome young gent like you. An' the boy takes
arter her. A deep young cuss," whispered Granny Purr, significantly.

"But why should I beware of him?" asked Beecot, puzzled.

"A nod's a wink to a blind 'un," croaked Mrs. Purr, condensing the
proverb, and turning away. "Jus' leave that brat, Tray, to his own
wickedness. They