"When people wished to marry, why, delay was balderdash. Matters could be quickly and quietly managed. His money was ready--no bonds or post-obits--a clean thousand in hand, and another the moment an opening to purchase a step should occur. No use in mincing matters among friends. Mrs. O'Finn was an excellent woman: she was a true friend, and a good Catholic; but, d---- it, she had old-world notions about family, and in pride the devil was a fool to her. If she came home before the ceremony, there would be an endless fuss; and Roger concluded by suggesting that we should be married the next evening, and give my honoured aunt an agreeable surprise." That was precisely what I wanted; and a happier man never pressed a pillow than I, after my interesting colloquy with the quartermaster. The last morning of my celibacy dawned. I met Roger only at the breakfast table; for my beloved Biddy, between cold and virgin trepidation, was _hors de combat_, and signified in a tender billet her intention to keep her chamber, until the happy hour arrived that should unite us in the silken bonds of Hymen. The quartermaster undertook to conduct the nuptial preparations; a friend of his would perform the ceremony, and the quieter the thing was done the better. After breakfast he set out to complete all matrimonial arrangements, and I strolled into the garden to ruminate on my approaching happiness, and bless Heaven for the treasure I was destined to possess in Biddy MacGawly. No place could have been more appropriately selected for tender meditation. _There_ was the conscious hedge, that had witnessed the first kiss of love; ay, and for naught I knew to the contrary, the identical flower-pot on which her sylphic form had rested; sylphic it was no longer, for the slender girl had ripened into a stout and comely gentlewoman; and she would be mine--mine that very evening. "Ah! Terence," I said in an undertone, "few men at twenty-one have drawn such a prize. A thousand pounds! ready cash--a regiment in perspective--a wife in hand; and such a wife--young, artless, tender, and attached. By everything matrimonial, you have the luck of thousands!" My soliloquy was interrupted by a noise on the other side of the fence. I looked over. It was my aunt's maid; and great was our mutual astonishment. Judy blessed herself; as she ejaculated--"Holy Virgin! Master Terence, is that you?" I satisfied her of my identity, and learned to my unspeakable surprise that my aunt had returned unexpectedly, and that she had not the remotest suspicion that her affectionate nephew, myself, was cantoned within pistol-shot. Without consideration I hopped over the hedge, and next minute was in the presence of my honoured protectress, the relict of the departed captain.