EYE-OPENERS.
On the morning of All Saints' Day, and while numerous bells, in tuneful voices, reminded London of souls departed, and souls to be saved, Silas Jones and his twin spirit, Sarah Kane, having arrayed themselves in best bib and tucker, had taken the underground rail from Bayswater, and with the multitude were trying not to lose one another in the London fog—a regular pea-souper, in which the coat-pocket of Silas had been picked of pipe, tobacco and handkerchief.
"Mercy me, Silas, look well that they don't steal the license."
"You are right, Sarah; which the thieves would not ask for leave or license to take; 'tis a big world our London; and it's my belief the thieves' quarter is the biggest half."
"We should have made sure of the license, Silas, by being married at first."
"That we should, dear; but you have always let a fancied duty come between us. And now for Piccadilly and Dr. Annesley, in this fog."
"Hello, Missis; a feller can't see in this 'ere yeller fog; 'ere, get into my barrow; it's clean, and I'll run yer through," said a boy's voice, running against them; and which Sarah Kane recognized as that of her liberator, the cross-eyed boy.
His offer was hurriedly declined by Silas, who dreaded Sarah taking her hand from his arm. On ascertaining from the boy that he had hired to peddle fruit for a huckster and that he had pawned the watch and chain they offered to redeem them, and give him a sovereign and-a-half for them; which offer he joyfully accepted; they also, giving him their address, told him, if at any time he wanted advice or assistance, to come.
A policeman now directed them to the residence of Dr. Annesley—a genial, kindly old gentleman, who was at home, and pleased to see them. On their relating the doings at Broadlawns, he was both astonished and indignant, disgusted and outrageous.
"As to any sharp tricks in money matters, I am not surprised," he said, impatiently; "but that they should have dared to perpetrate such an outrage as the marriage of Mr. C. Babbington-Cole, to that intensely disagreeable, ugly, cruel, Miss Villiers, is monstrous, monstrous!"