“I can’t afford a better place than this. I know it may not seem very comfortable to you, but it’s all I really need.” “Afford it! Of course you can afford a better place! Oh, I had forgotten. They haven’t told you, then?” “Told me what?” “Well, I don’t know that I should mention it. The fact is (it all came out quite incidentally when I was talking to the vicar--I told you he was saying nice things about you! ), I imagine they’re preparing a little surprise for you; so never say I spoke of it, but I don’t like surprises myself. I always tell the boys that if they’ve any surprises for me, to let me know in advance, so that I may prepare the proper expression. What I don’t like about a surprise is to have it sprung on me without being told of it beforehand. Well, as I said, I shouldn’t mention this; but the churchwardens and the vicar and a number of the parishioners have resolved to increase your salary by one hundred pounds a year. I was very glad to hear it, and I said so. ‘To show our appreciation of his music,’ were the exact words of the vicar. Splendid old chap, the vicar!--I like him.” Barney walked up and down the room as he talked, never glancing at his listener. Langly’s eyes filled with tears: he tried to speak, but he could not. Then he lay down on the bed and buried his face in the pillow. His visitor chattered on, pacing to and fro, taking no notice of the other’s emotion, until Langly, recovering himself, said, gratefully: “It is very, very good of them. They have always been exceedingly kind to me.” “Oh, it’s merely a matter of business. They don’t want some other church to lure you away. Trust a churchwarden! He’s always up to snuff. Now, Langly, you must come with me. If you resist, I’ll pick you up in my arms and carry you down to my hansom as if you were a baby. Brace up, old man, and come along!” Faintly protesting, but in his weakness making no resistance, Langly staggered down to Light Street, leaning on Barney’s arm. In about half an hour a comfortable domicile was found near the church, and a porter was sent back to Rose Garden Court to fetch the musician’s’ belongings. ***** The wedding ceremony was all that the best friends of the happy pair could wish. Never had old St. Martyrs seen such a brilliant assemblage. The splendid _Wedding March_ was a triumph, filling the resonant church with its jubilant, entrancing harmonies, and it was played as no march had ever been played before. Barney stole a moment or two, while friends were pressing around the bride, and drew Betson, the chief press man present, into a corner. “Now, Betson,” he said, “you heard that music.” “It was glorious!” replied the journalist.