Mrs. Sandboys was too delighted at obtaining possession of her marriage certificate once more to do other than laugh heartily at what had occurred, and though Cursty felt inclined to trace the finger of Destiny in the whole affair, Aggy, from the pleasant termination of the occurrence, could not consent to look upon the circumstance as a disappointment, and made up her mind to go the very next shilling-day to the Exhibition. Cursty, however, was fully persuaded that they should never set foot within the Crystal Palace, and was for going home by the first train in the morning; and it was not until Major Oldschool consented, provided Mr. Sandboys would remain his guest till the Monday following, that he himself would accompany them and see them safe through the entire expedition. This offer was more than Mr. Sandboys could withstand; and accordingly, on the condition that, come what may, the family should leave town for Buttermere the day after their visit to the Exhibition, he at length consented to make one more trial under the guidance of his excellent friend, Major Oldschool. In this frame of mind we must now leave the family for awhile, to revert to another member of the same establishment. * * * * * Mrs. Quinine, whose health had in no way improved since we left her, lay still stretched upon the sofa of Mrs. Fokesell’s second floor, enacting the part of the interesting invalid as usual. For the last three months, however, her hand had been removed from her cheek, and her fingers busily engaged in inserting tiny embroidered crowns into tiny muslin caps—little things that seemed fit only to serve for the head-dress to an apple-dumpling. Dr. Twaddles had called daily at the house for eight weeks past to inquire “how we were getting on,” and had held himself in readiness, for the same lengthened space of time, to answer the lady’s summons with the least possible delay. Mrs. Pilchers had arrived with her bundle, and had been sleeping on chairs in the studio for the last six weeks. The white satin pincushion ornamented with the well-known infantine greeting of WELCOME LITTLE STRANGER. inscribed in pins, had been forwarded by one of the lady’s “dearest” schoolfellows, so long since that it had lost much of the original delicacy of its complexion. “The basket” had been prepared for many weeks, and stood on the toilet-table in the lady’s bed-room with its powder-box and puff, and its little soft goat’s-hair brush stuck in the side-pockets, and the bassinet remained done up in silver paper in the corner of the room; but though all these extensive preparations had been made for the “little stranger,” and its welcome had been _pinned_ by a friendly hand, the lady and all her female friends were kept in a state of the most tantalizing suspense; for no “little stranger” came.