, you see, he didn't go
on the _Evening Star._"

"_Wot?_" ses George Hatchard. "Why you told me yourself--"

"I know I did," ses Mrs. Pearce, "but that was only just to spare your
feelings. Charlie _was_ going to sea in her, but he was prevented."

"Prevented?" ses two or three of 'em.

"Yes," ses Mrs. Pearce; "the night afore he was to 'ave sailed there was
some silly mistake over a diamond ring, and he got five years. He gave a
different name at the police-station, and naturally everybody thought 'e
went down with the ship. And when he died in prison I didn't undeceive
'em."

She took out her 'andkerchief, and while she was busy with it Bill
Flurry got up and went out on tiptoe. Young Alf got up a second or
two arterwards to see where he'd gone; and the last Joe Morgan and his
missis see of the happy couple they was sitting on one chair, and George
Hatchard was making desprit and 'artrending attempts to smile.

A DISTANT RELATIVE

[Illustration: A Distant Relative 112]

MR. POTTER had just taken Ethel Spriggs into the kitchen to say good-by;
in the small front room Mr. Spriggs, with his fingers already fumbling
at the linen collar of ceremony, waited impatiently.

"They get longer and longer over their good-bys," he complained.

"It's only natural," said Mrs. Spriggs, looking up from a piece of fine
sewing. "Don't you remember--"

"No, I don't," said her husband, doggedly. "I know that your pore father
never 'ad to put on a collar for me; and, mind you, I won't wear one
after they're married, not if you all went on your bended knees and
asked me to."

He composed his face as the door opened, and nodded good-night to
the rather over-dressed young man who came through the room with his
daughter.

The latter opened the front-door and passing out with Mr. Potter, held
it slightly open. A penetrating draught played upon the exasperated Mr.
Spriggs. He coughed loudly.

"Your father's got a cold," said Mr. Potter, in a concerned voice.

"No; it's only too much smoking," said the girl. "He's smoking all day
long." The indignant Mr. Spriggs coughed again; but the young people had
found a new subject of conversation. It ended some minutes later in a
playful scuffle, during which the door acted the part of a ventilating
fan.

"It's only for another fortnight," said Mrs. Spriggs, hastily, as her
husband rose.

"After they're spliced," said the vindictive Mr. Spriggs, resuming his
seat, "I'll go round