"You'll wear the green tie, sir?" William nodded. The green tie was a yard of flowing sea-green silk. "I've got you a bunch of yellow flowers, sir; will you wear them now, or shall I put them in the bag?" William glanced at the bouquet. "They look a bit loud," he said; "I'll wait till we get on the course; put them in the bag." The card to be worn in the white hat--"William Latch, London," in gold letters on a green ground--was laid on top. The boots with soles three inches high went into the box on which William stood while he halloaed his prices to the crowd. Then there were the two poles which supported a strip of white linen, on which was written in gold letters, "William Latch, 'The King's Head,' London. Fair prices, prompt payment." It was a grey day, with shafts of sunlight coming through, and as the cab passed over Waterloo Bridge, London, various embankments and St. Paul's on one side, wharves and warehouses on the other, appeared in grey curves and straight silhouettes. The pavements were lined with young men--here and there a girl's dress was a spot of colour in the grey morning. At the station they met Journeyman and old John, but Sarah was nowhere to be found. William said-- "We shall be late; we shall have to go without her." Esther's face clouded. "We can't go without her; don't be so impatient." At that moment a white muslin was seen in the distance, and Esther said, "I think that that's Sarah." "You can chatter in the train--you'll have a whole hour to talk about each other's dress; get in, get in," and William pressed them into a third-class carriage. They had not seen each other for so long a while, and there was so much to say that they did not know where to begin. Sarah was the first to speak. "It was kind of you to think of me. So you've married, and to him after all!" she added, lowering her voice. Esther laughed. "It do seem strange, don't it?" "You'll tell me all about it," she said. "I wonder we didn't run across one another before." They rolled out of the grey station into the light, and the plate-glass drew the rays together till they burnt the face and hands. They sped alongside of the upper windows nearly on a level with the red and yellow chimney-pots; they passed open spaces filled with cranes, old iron, and stacks of railway sleepers, pictorial advertisements, sky signs, great gasometers rising round and black in their iron cages over-topping or nearly the slender spires. A train steamed along a hundred-arched viaduct; and along a black embankment the other trains rushed by in a whirl of wheels, bringing thousands of clerks up from the suburbs to their city toil.