h, get out of the way, do! We shall be late." Mrs. Bindle, in
petticoat and camisole, pushed Bindle aside and took her place in
front of the mirror. "Anybody would think you was a woman, standing
looking at yourself in front of the glass. What'll Mr. Hearty say if
we're late?"

"You need never be afraid of what 'Earty'll say," remarked Bindle
philosophically, "because 'e'll never say anythink wot can't be
printed in a parish magazine."

Mrs. Bindle sniffed and continued patting her hair with the palm of
her hand. Bindle still stood regarding his crush-hat regretfully.

"You can't wear a hat like that at a wedding," snapped Mrs. Bindle;
"that's for a dress-suit."

Bindle heaved a sigh.

"I'd a liked to 'ave worn a top 'at at Millikins' weddin'," he
remarked with genuine regret; "but as you'd say, Mrs. B.," he
remarked, regaining his good-humour, "Gawd 'as ordained otherwise, so
it's a 'ard 'at for J.B. to-day."

"Remember you're going to chapel, Bindle," remarked Mrs. Bindle, "and
it's a sin to enter the House of God with blasphemy upon your lips."

"Is it really?" was Bindle's only comment, as he produced the hard hat
and began to brush it with the sleeve of his coat. This done he took
up a position behind Mrs. Bindle, bent his knees and proceeded to fix
it on his head, appropriating to his own use such portion of the
mirror as could be seen beneath Mrs. Bindle's left arm.

"Oh, get away, do!" Mrs. Bindle turned on him angrily; but Bindle had
achieved his object, and had adjusted his hat at what he felt was the
correct angle for weddings. He next turned his attention to a large
white rose, which he proceeded to force into his buttonhole. This time
he took up a position on Mrs. Bindle's right and, going through the
same process, managed to get the complete effect of the buttonhole
plus the hat. He next proceeded to draw on a pair of canary-coloured
wash-leather gloves. This done he picked up a light cane, heavily
adorned with yellow metal and, Mrs. Bindle having temporarily left the
mirror, he placed himself before it.

"Personally myself," he remarked, "I don't see that Charlie'll 'ave a
sportin' chance to-day. Lord! I pays for dressin'," he remarked,
popping quickly aside as Mrs. Bindle bore down upon him. "You ought to
be a proud woman to-day, Mrs. B.," he continued. "There's many a fair
'eart wot'll flutter as I walks up the aisle." Mrs. Bindle's head,
however, was enveloped in the folds of her skirt, whic