But Trotty had a father's heart within him; which had somehow got into his breast in spite of this decree; and he could not bear that Meg, in the blush of her brief joy, should have her fortune read by these wise gentlemen. "God help her," thought poor Trotty. "She will know it soon enough." He anxiously signed, therefore, to the young smith, to take her away. But he was so busy, talking to her softly at a little distance, that he only became conscious of this desire, simultaneously with Alderman Cute. Now, the Alderman had not yet had his say, but _he_ was a philosopher, too--practical though! Oh, very practical!--and, as he had no idea of losing any portion of his audience, he cried "Stop!" Trotty took Meg's hand and drew it through his arm. He didn't seem to know what he was doing though. "Your daughter, eh?" said the Alderman, chucking her familiarly under the chin. "And you're making love to her, are you?" said Cute to the young smith. "Yes," returned Richard quickly, for he was nettled by the question. "And we are going to be married on New Year's Day." "What do you mean?" cried Filer sharply. "Married!" "Why, yes, we were thinking of it. Master," said Richard. "We're rather in a hurry you see, in case it should be Put Down first." "Ah!" cried Filer, with a groan. "Put _that_ down indeed. Alderman, and you'll do something. Married! Married!! The ignorance of the first principles of political economy on the part of these people; their improvidence; their wickedness is by Heavens! enough to--Now look at that couple, will you!" Well! They were worth looking at. And marriage seemed as reasonable and fair a deed as they need have in contemplation. "A man may live to be as old as Methuselah," said Mr. Filer, "and may labor all his life for the benefit of such people as those; and may heap up facts on figures, facts on figures, facts on figures, mountains high and dry; and he can no more hope to persuade 'em that they have no right or business to be married than he can hope to persuade 'em that they have no earthly right or business to be born. And _that_ we know they haven't. We reduced that to a mathematical certainty long ago!" "Come here, my girl!" said Alderman Cute. The young blood of her lover had been mounting, wrathfully, within the last few minutes; and he was indisposed to let her come. But, setting a constraint upon himself, he came forward with a stride as Meg approached and stood beside her. Trotty kept her hand within his arm still, but looked from face to face as wildly as a sleeper in a dream. "Now, I'm going to give you a word or two of good advice, my girl," said the Alderman, in his nice easy way. "It's my place to give advice, you know, because I'm a Justice. You know I'm a Justice, don't you?" Meg timidly said, "Yes." But everybody knew Alderman Cute was a Justice! Oh dear, so active a Justice always! Who such a mote of brightness in the public eye, as Cute!