n undertaken in sober earnest, he would be doing rather well
for himself than otherwise. Now that he was at leisure to survey Miss
Heptonstall with an impartial eye, it appeared to him that she really
was not ill-looking, and he didn't believe she could be more than nine
or ten years older than he was. She certainly was a notable sort of
body; she kept her place wonderful nice, and she had a tidy bit of
brass laid by in the bank. There was a very comfortable ring about
this last item. It was odd that from the time these reflections took
possession of him Ted became pensive and serious. The conversation
flagged, and by-and-by he rose to take his leave. Margaret accompanied
him to the door.

"Ye'll be lookin' in again, I fancy, afore th' weekend?" she remarked
casually.

Ted cleared his throat and replied that very like he would. He walked
rather slowly till he reached the corner of the lane, and there he
paused, slapping his thigh as he suddenly remembered something.

"I haven't said a word about the shoutin'!" he cried in a vexed tone.
He retraced his steps more quickly, and presently re-entered
Margaret's cottage.

"Miss Heptonstall," he began, screwing his head insinuatingly round
the doorpost.

"Well?" returned Margaret. She was standing with her back to him,
gazing meditatively into the fire.

"I were thinkin'," continued Wharton, "you an' me, ye know--theer
isn't much use in waitin', is theer?"

Margaret turned and looked at him, but did not speak.

"We met as well let Canon begin o' shoutin' us, dunnot ye think?"

Margaret reflected. "It 'ud be a pity for ye to gi' up your house
afore th' end o' th' year," she remarked. "Th' agent wouldn't let ye,
would he? Ye'll ha' to gi' six months' notice, wunnot ye? Theer's time
enough as how 'tis."

Ted bethought him of the cask of beer, and his face fell. If he was to
win his wager the banns must be published before the end of the month,
and but ten days of it remained to run.

"Well, I'd as soon as not hurry up things," he said, screwing a little
more of his person on the other side of the door. "I'm awful tired o'
livin' by mysel'. An' we met let my house an' turn o'er a bit o' money
that way. If we was to get wed at once ye'd be havin' the benefit o'
that as well's me. It 'ud be more to our mutual advantage," delivering
this phrase, culled from one of his favourite papers, with great
emphasis, "nor for both of us to remain single. That's what _I_ think,
Mi