The banns were duly called, therefore, and on one sunshiny summer's day Jenny and Sam, followed by a little band of near relatives, walked gleefully to their new home from the church where they had been made one. Betty Tuffin, who, as a lone woman, could not in justice to herself refuse any paying job, however little she might approve of her employer, had been left to take care of the house and to assist in preparing the refreshments, As the little party approached the cottage door they were surprised to see her standing on the threshold, now portentously wagging her black-capped head, now burying her face in her apron, evidently a prey to strong emotion, though of what particular kind it was difficult to say. The bride hastened her steps, and Betty, who had for the twentieth time taken refuge in her apron, cautiously uncovered what seemed to be a very watery eye, and remarked in muffled and quavering tones from behind its enveloping folds-- "I'm afeared you'll be a bit took a-back when ye go indoor, my dear; best go cautious. I d' 'low ye'll be _surprised_!' "What d'ye mean?" cried Jenny in alarm. "What's the matter?" "Anything wrong?" inquired Sam from the rear. But Betty was apparently entirely overcome, and could only intimate by repeated jerking of her thumb over her shoulder her desire that they should go in and see for themselves. A long table was spread in the centre of the living-room, and, at the moment that the bridal party entered, a tall figure, dressed in kharki, was walking hastily round it, picking up a spoon from each cup. "Abel!" shrieked Jenny, staggering back against her husband. "What, bain't ye dead?" gasped the latter with a dropping jaw. Abel added another spoon to his collection, and then looked up:--"This 'ere only makes five," he said; "there did ought to be six. Where's t'other?" "Dear heart alive!" groaned Jenny's mother. "Jist look at en. We thought en dead an' buried, an' here he be a-carryin' off the spoons!" "I bain't dead, ye see," returned the yeoman fiercely. "There's more Abel Guppys nor one i' the world, an' the man what got shot was a chap fro' Weymouth. If I _was_ dead an' buried, all the same d'ye think I'd leave my spoons to be set out at another man's weddin'? Where's the other chaney dog?" He had already pocketed one, and now cast a vengeful glance round. "On the dresser, Abel," gasped Jenny faintly; "oh, my poor heart, how it do beat! To think o' your comin' back like that! Oh, Abel, I made sure you was killed." "And you're very sorry, bain't ye?" returned her former lover with wrathful irony, "I'll thank ye for my bank-book, if ye please. Ye haven't drawed the money out--that's one good thing. They telled I all about it at the post-office yesterday. That's my dish, too." Extending a long arm he deftly whisked away the large old-fashioned platter which had supported the wedding-cake, dusting off the crumbs with an air of great disgust.