Margaret made no rejoinder; and just then the young servant put in her head. "Be there anything else wanted, missis?" "No," snapped Mrs. Rymer. "You can be off to bed." But, before the girl had shut the parlour-door, a loud ring came to the outer one. Such late summonses were not unusual; they generally meant a prescription to be made up. Whilst the girl went to the door, Margaret closed the Bible, dried her eyes, and rose up to be in readiness. But instead of a prescription, there entered Mr. Benjamin Rymer. His mother stood up, staring, her hair a mass of white corkscrews. Ben clasped Margaret in his arms, and kissed her heartily. "My goodness _me_!" cried Mrs. Rymer. "Is it you, Ben?" "Yes, it is, mother," said Ben, turning to her. "Maggie, dear, you look as though you did not know me." "Why, what on earth have you come for, in this startling way?" demanded Mrs. Rymer. "I don't believe your bed's aired." "I'll sleep between the blankets--the best place to-night. What have I come for, you ask, mother? I have come home to stay." Margaret was gazing at him, her mild eyes wide open, a spot of hectic on each cheek. "For your sake, Maggie," he whispered, putting his arm round her waist, and bending his great red head (but not so red as his mother's) down on her. "I shall not much like to lose you, though, my little sister. The Bahamas are further off than I could have wished." And, for answer, poor Margaret, what with one thing and another, sank quietly down in her chair, and fainted. Ben strode into the shop--as much at home amongst the bottles as though he had never quitted them--and came back with some sal volatile. * * * * * They were married in less than a month; for Mr. Sale's chaplaincy would not wait for him. The Rector was ailing as usual, or said he was, and Charles Ashton came over to perform the ceremony. Margaret was in a bright dark silk, a light shawl, and a plain bonnet; they were to go away from the church door, and the boxes were already at the station. Ben, dressed well, and looking not unlike a gentleman, gave her away; but there was no wedding-party. Mrs. Rymer stayed at home in a temper, which I dare say nobody regretted: she considered Margaret ought to have remained single. And after a day or two spent in the seaport town they were to sail from, regaling their eyes with the ships crowding the water, the Reverend Isaac Sale and his wife embarked for their future home in the Bahama Isles. XIII. THE OTHER EARRING. "And if I could make sure that you two boys would behave yourselves and give me no trouble, possibly I might take you this year just for a treat." "Behave ourselves!" exclaimed Tod, indignantly. "Do you think we are two children, sir?" "We would be as good as gold, sir," I added, turning eagerly to the Squire. "Well, Johnny, I'm not much afraid but that you would. Perhaps I'll trust you both, then, Joe." "Thank you, father."