to which it is not
necessary more especially to allude here. But on the occasion of that
last kiss in the summer-house Miss Fairstairs was perfectly justified
by circumstances, for she was then the promised bride of Mr
Cheesacre.

But how was he to get down again among his friends? That
consideration troubled Mr Cheesacre as he rose from his happy seat
after that last embrace. He had promised Charlie, and perhaps he
would keep his promise, but it might be as well not to make it all
too public at once. But Charlie wasn't going to be thrown over;--not
if she knew it, as she said to herself. She returned therefore
triumphantly among them all,--blushing indeed, and with her eyes
turned away, and her hand now remained upon her lover's arm;--but
still so close to him that there could be no mistake. "Goodness,
gracious, Charlie! where have you and Mr Cheesacre been?" said Mrs
Greenow. "We got up into the woods and lost ourselves," said Charlie.
"Oh, indeed," said Mrs Greenow.

It would be too long to tell now, in these last pages of our story,
how Cheesacre strove to escape, and with what skill Mrs Greenow kept
him to his bargain. I hope that Charlie Fairstairs was duly grateful.
Before that evening was over, under the comfortable influence of
a glass of hot brandy-and-water,--the widow had, I think, herself
mixed the second glass for Mr Cheesacre, before the influence became
sufficiently comfortable,--he was forced to own that he had made
himself the happy possessor of Charlie Fairstairs' heart and hand.
"And you are a lucky man," said the widow with enthusiasm; "and I
congratulate you with all my heart. Don't let there be any delay now,
because a good thing can't be done too soon." And indeed, before
that night was over, Mrs Greenow had the pair together in her own
presence, and then fixed the day. "A fellow ought to be allowed to
turn himself," Cheesacre said to her, pleading for himself in a
whisper. But no; Mrs Greenow would give him no such mercy. She knew
to what a man turning himself might probably lead. She was a woman
who was quite in earnest when she went to work, and I hope that
Miss Fairstairs was grateful. Then, in that presence, was in truth
the last kiss given on that eventful evening. "Come, Charlie, be
good-natured to him. He's as good as your own now," said the widow.
And Charlie was good-natured. "It's to be as soon as ever we come
back from our trip," said Mrs Greenow to Kate, the next day, "and I'm
le