“Tell you presently,” said his uncle, in a frightened whisper, “Hush! Don’t take no notice of it. Not a word.” “What is it?” persisted Flower. Captain Barber gave a hurried glance towards the door and then leaned over the table. “Broken ’art,” he whispered, sorrowfully. Flower whistled, and, full of the visions which this communication opened up, neglected to join in the artificial mirth which his uncle was endeavouring to provoke upon the housekeeper’s return. Finally he worked up a little mirth on his own account, and after glancing from his uncle to the housekeeper, and from the housekeeper back to his uncle again, smothered his face in his handkerchief and rushed from the room. “Bit on a bad tooth,” he said, untruthfully, when he came back. Captain Barber eyed him fiercely, but Mrs. Church regarded him with compassionate interest, and, having got the conversation upon such a safe subject, kept it there until the meal was finished. “What’s it all about?” enquired Flower, as, tea finished, Captain Barber carried his chair to the extreme end of the garden and beckoned his nephew to do likewise. “You’re the cause of it,” said Captain Barber, severely. “Me?” said Flower, in surprise. “You know that little plan I told you of when you was down here?” said the other. His nephew nodded. “It came off,” groaned Captain Barber. “I’ve got news for you as’ll make you dance for joy.” “I’ve got a bad foot,” said Flower, paling. “Never mind about your foot,” said his uncle, regarding him fixedly. “Your banns are up.” “Up! Up where?” gasped Flower. “Why—in the church,” said the other, staring at him; “where do you think? I got the old lady’s consent day before yesterday, and had ’em put up at once.” “Is she dead, then?” enquired his nephew, in a voice the hollowness of which befitted the question. “How the devil could she be?” returned his uncle, staring at him. “No, I didn’t think of that,” said Flower; “of course, she couldn’t give her consent, could she—not if she was dead, I mean.” Captain Barber drew his chair back and looked at him. “His joy has turned his brain,” he said, with conviction. “No, it’s my foot,” said Flower, rallying. “I’ve had no sleep with it. I’m delighted! Delighted! After all these years.” “You owe it to me,” said his uncle, with a satisfied air. “I generally see my way clear to what I want, and generally get it, too. I’ve played Mrs. Banks and Mrs. Church agin one another without their knowing it. Both ’elpless in my hands, they was.” “But what’s the matter with Mrs. Church?” said his depressed nephew. “Oh, that’s the worst of it,” said Uncle Barber, shaking his head. “While I was in play, that pore woman must have thought I was in earnest. She don’t say nothing. Not a word, and the efforts she makes to control her feelings is noble.” “Have you told her she has got to go then?” enquired Flower. Captain Barber shook his head. “Mrs. Banks saved me that trouble,” he said, grimly.