a loving heart
and such blue eyes as Will's. Ah! the girls will all envy me, when they
get a glance from Will's blue eyes: and let them, for he is too good a
fellow to look at anybody but his poor ordinary silly wife, and if he
did, the odds are that he would not see them: could not see whether
their hair were black or red. Ah me! I am not sure whether Will always
sees me--poor me--and not one of his angels from paradise."

But Dulcie did mean to tell Clary, and to ask her what she would
advise her to wear for her wedding-gown, and whether she and Sam
Winnington would be best maid and best man. But Clary put her foot
through the plan neatly. Clary was in one of her vapourish moods when
she inquired one night, "Is Will Locke coming down again, Dulcie? Oh!
what ever is he seeking here? What more can we do for him? Nobody
wants any more sheep or goats (were they sheep or goats, Dulcie?), or
strawberries and currants, unless as mutton, and kid, and preserves.
And, Dulcie, you must not stand in your own light, and throw away any
more notice upon him; it is wasting your time, and the word of him may
keep away others. A match with him would be purely preposterous: even
Sam Winnington, who is a great deal more of a scamp, my dear, treats
him as a sublime simpleton."

What induced Clary to attempt to lock the stable after the steed was
stolen? What drove her off all of a sudden on this dreadfully candid and
prudent tack? She only knew. Possibly it was to ease her own troubled
conscience: but with Sam Winnington constantly dangling about her
skirts, and receiving sufficient encouragement, too, it was hard for
Dulcie to bear. She was in a fine passion; she would not tell Clary,
after that round of advice; no, not a word. How did she know what Clary
would do next? Perhaps forbid Will the house, when he came back from
London with the licence, lock her into a room, and write an evil report
to her friends? No, Dulcie could keep her own counsel: she was sorry to
live in Clary's house, and eat the bread of deceit, but she would not
risk Will's happiness as well as her own.

Will Locke reappeared on the scene within a fortnight. The lad did not
tell Dulcie, though, that he had walked the most of the way, and that
he had rendered himself footsore, in order to be able to count out
Dulcie's modest expenses up to town, and perhaps a month's
housekeeping beforehand: for that was the extent of his outlook. Will
Locke appointed the Vicar to