h she was
endeavouring to assume without rumpling her hair.

"Ah! Mrs. B.," Bindle said reprovingly, "late again, late again!" He
proceeded to bite off the end of a cigar which he lit.

"Don't smoke that cigar," snapped Mrs. Bindle.

"Not smoke a cigar at a weddin'!" exclaimed Bindle incredulously.
"Then if you can't smoke a cigar at a weddin', when the 'ell can you
smoke one."

"Don't you use those words at me," retorted Mrs. Bindle. "If you smoke
you'll smell of smoke in the chapel."

"The only smell I ever smelt in that chapel is its own smell, and that
ain't a pleasant one. Any'ow, I'll put it out before I gets to the
door. I'm jest goin' to 'op round to see Millikins."

"You'll do nothing of the kind," cried Mrs. Bindle with decision. "You
mustn't see a bride before she appears at the chapel."

Bindle stopped dead on his way to the door and, turning round,
exclaimed, "Mustn't wot?"

"You mustn't see a bride before she appears at the chapel or church.
It isn't proper."

"Well, I'm blowed!" cried Bindle. "You mean to tell me that Charlie
Dixon ain't goin' to nip round and 'ave a look at 'er this mornin'?"

"Certainly not," said Mrs. Bindle.

"But why?" persisted Bindle.

"Because it's not proper; it's not the right thing to do," replied
Mrs. Bindle, as she struggled into her bodice.

"Now ain't that funny," said Bindle. "I suppose it all come about
because they was afraid the chap might sort o' funk it and do a bunk,
not likin' the looks o' the gal. Any'ow that ain't likely to 'appen
with Millikins. The cove wot gets 'er, 'as got a winner."

"Thought you didn't believe in marriage," said Mrs. Bindle acidly.

"I don't, Mrs. B.," replied Bindle. "Leastways the marriages wot are
made in the place where they don't play billiards; but this little one
was made in the Putney Cinema Pavilion. I made it myself, and when
J.B. takes a thing in 'and, it's goin' to be top 'ole. Then," he
proceeded after a pause, "Millikins 'as got me to look after 'er. If
'er man didn't make 'er 'appy, I'd skin 'im; yes, and rub salt in
afterwards."

There was a grimness in Bindle's voice that caused Mrs. Bindle to
pause in the process of pinning a brooch in her bodice.

"Yes, Mrs. B.," continued Bindle, "that little gal means an 'ell of a
lot to me, I----"

Mrs. Bindle looked round, a little startled at a huskiness in Bindle's
voice. She was just in time to see him disappear through the
bedroom-door. When she returned to