‘Then do you no longer love me, Nettie?’ asked the present writer.
‘Tinkling! I am ever thine,’ returned my bride.
We all four embraced. Let me not be misunderstood by the giddy. The colonel embraced his own bride, and I embraced mine. But two times two make four.
‘Nettie and I,’ said Alice mournfully, ‘have been considering our position. The grown-up people are too strong for us. They make us ridiculous. Besides, they have changed the times. William Tinkling’s baby brother was christened yesterday. What took place? Was any king present? Answer, William.’
I said No, unless disguised as Great-uncle Chopper.
‘Any queen?’
There had been no queen that I knew of at our house. There might have been one in the kitchen: but I didn’t think so, or the servants would have mentioned it.
‘Any fairies?’
None that were visible.
‘We had an idea among us, I think,’ said Alice, with a melancholy smile, ‘we four, that Miss Grimmer would prove to be the wicked fairy, and would come in at the christening with her crutch-stick, and give the child a bad gift. Was there anything of that sort? Answer, William.’