"I suppose so," replied Mayne. "There is one thing positively certain."
"What's that?"
"That I have been married for the first, and last, time."
"Well, there's no saying; queer things 'appen. I'm sure this day week, you never dreamt you'd be a married man to-day; and you and Nancy are married, just as tight as 'Icks and me. You've got the certificate?"
"I have, and I do not intend to shirk all my responsibilities. I shall make Nancy an allowance; but I'll never see her again."
"Many's the woman that will be thankful to be married on those terms," chuckled Mrs. Hicks, now lighting up.
The good lady was enjoying a thorough holiday, and being as free and easy, and talkative as she pleased; far removed from the irritating criticisms of her daughters. She and her would-be son-in-law were pals! It was Jessie, influenced by Mrs. Ffinch—and Dr. Hicks—ambitious for his daughter—who were the real obstacles to the alliance.
"I'll run down to Coimbatore," she announced, "and see the child. Hicks doesn't like the look of her, and I'll just tell her what I think of her, for giving me the slip, the sly little toad! I suppose you don't send her no message?" suddenly turning to Mayne.
"Well, yes, perhaps I'd better. I'll go and write a line now, no time like the present," and he rose and went towards the den.
Mrs. Hicks' eyes followed him steadily. Then she burst out: