It was a week after Mr. Kybird’s visit to the alley that he went, as usual, for a stroll up and down the High Street. The evening was deepening, and some of the shops had already lit up, as Mr. Silk, with his face against the window-pane, tried in vain to penetrate the obscurity of Mr. Kybird’s shop. He could just make out a dim figure behind the counter, which he believed to be Amelia, when a match was struck and a gas jet threw a sudden light in the shop and revealed Mr. Jack Nugent standing behind the counter with his hand on the lady’s shoulder. One glance was sufficient. The next moment there was a sharp cry from Miss Kybird and a bewildered stare from Nugent as something, only comparable to a human cracker, bounced into the shop and commenced to explode before them. “Take your ’and off,” raved Mr. Silk. “Leave ’er alone. ’Ow dare you? D’ye hear me? ’Melia, I won’t ’ave it! I won’t ’ave it!” “Don’t be silly, Teddy,” remonstrated Mr. Nugent, following up Miss Kybird, as she edged away from him. “Leave ’er alone, d’ye ’ear?” yelled Mr. Silk, thumping the counter with his small fist. “She’s my wife!” “Teddy’s mad,” said Mr. Nugent, calmly, “stark, staring, raving mad. Poor Teddy.” He shook his head sadly, and had just begun to recommend a few remedies when the parlour door opened and the figure of Mr. Kybird, with his wife standing close behind him, appeared in the doorway. [Illustration: “He could just make out a dim figure behind the counter.”] “Who’s making all this noise?” demanded the former, looking from one to the other. “_I_ am,” said Mr. Silk, fiercely. “It’s no use your winking at me; I’m not going to ’ave any more of this nonsense. ’Melia, you go and get your ’at on and come straight off ’ome with me.” Mr. Kybird gave a warning cough. “Go easy, Teddy,” he murmured. “And don’t you cough at me,” said the irritated Mr. Silk, “because it won’t do no good.” Mr. Kybird subsided. He was not going to quarrel with a son-in-law who might at any moment be worth ten thousand pounds. “Isn’t he mad?” inquired the amazed Mr. Nugent. “Cert’nly not,” replied Mr. Kybird, moving aside to let his daughter pass; “no madder than you are. Wot d’ye mean, mad?” Mr. Nugent looked round in perplexity. “Do you mean to tell me that Teddy and Amelia are married?” he said, in a voice trembling with eagerness. “I do,” said Mr. Kybird. “It seems they’ve been fond of one another all along, and they went up all unbeknown last Friday and got a license and got married.” “And if I see you putting your ’and on ’er shoulder ag’in” said Mr. Silk, with alarming vagueness. “But suppose she asks me to?” said the delighted Mr. Nugent, with much gravity. “Look ’ere, we don’t want none o’ your nonsense,” broke in the irate Mrs. Kybird, pushing her way past her husband and confronting the speaker.