The governor of the prison had kindly set apart a private room for us, and there the ceremony was performed. Tom Beadle, when he first entered, looked half shamefaced and half defiant; but the solemnity of the prayers had its effect upon him, and after a time he drew his breath in short gasps, and the words he had to repeat after me came tremblingly from his lips. Jimmy Virtue gave Blade-o'-Grass away. So these two human waifs were joined together according to God's holy ordinance, and were made man and wife. The last words were said, and I prepared to go to my church. Tom Beadle and Blade-o'-Grass were standing a little apart from us; there was a dazed expression in his face, as if he could not fully realise what had occurred, but it softened as he gazed into Blade-o'-Grass's eyes, and saw the look of full-hearted love with which she was regarding him. 'Are you glad, old woman?' he asked. 'I am very, very 'appy, Tom!' she said. Then Rachel, as had been arranged between us, asked Tom whether his wife might spend the day with her. He hesitated a moment or two, but the better part of his nature had been awakened, and he could not resist Blade-o'-Grass's pleading look. 'Tom told me,' said Blade-o'-Grass, as we walked to church, 'that he feels as if he was just born like.' We wanted Jimmy Virtue to spend the day with the Silvers, but he refused, saying that he could pass the time well enough with Jack. 'I'm pig-'eaded, you know,' he added; 'that's what I am; and you ain't goin' to redemption _me!_' And so left us abruptly. That happy Christmas day was an era indeed in Blade-o'-Grass's life. It was spent very peacefully; and every one strove in a quiet way to make Blade-o'-Grass feel that she was in the midst of friends. I watched her closely during the day, and I saw that new thoughts were stirring in her mind. In the evening we were sitting together in the parlour; the candles were not lighted, and the conversation was carried on in low tones. Blade-o'-Grass had removed to the window, where she sat, watching the birth of night. I drew a chair close to her. 'Mr. Meadow,' she whispered, 'I've been thinkin'----' 'Yes, my dear.' 'That if me and Tom 'ad 'ad a 'ome like this we might 'ave been different to what we are.' She paused, and I did not speak, for I saw that she was struggling to say something more. 'I'm almost sorry I came 'ere, sir.' 'Why, my dear?' 'It's ungrateful of me to say it; but seein' what I've seen 'ere today'll make me miserable to-morrer in Stoney-alley.' I made no attempt to console her. I strove to prepare her for the end I had in view. 'This is a happy home, indeed, Blade-o'-Grass, and other homes as happy have sprung from it.' I recalled to her mind the circumstance, which Rachel had narrated to me, of Ruth assisting her one day when she was beseeching Tom Beadle to bring home some money as there was no bread in the cupboard.