"Sh!" hissed Melissa.
"The news about Melissa. She is going to be married in this very room two weeks from to-night, Diggs. How is that for news?"
"Married? Good God, sir!" gasped Diggs.
"Married to you, Diggs, and I am going to give the bride away!"
"Oh, pshaw, Mr. Bingle!" cried Melissa, covering her flaming face with her apron.
"Do—do you mean it, Mr. Bingle?" cried Diggs, with beaming eyes.
"I do. I'm getting tired of seeing you two around, so I'm going to MAKE you get married. Now, don't say you'll refuse, Diggs, for—"
"Refuse! God bless you, sir—I—"
"You see," went on Mr. Bingle, coming to the poor fellow's relief, "I have a notion that Mrs. Bingle will be home by that time, and—and we'll get along very cosily here in—but, run along, Melissa! Bring in the feast! Hey, children?"
The children shouted vociferously, and Reginald, pursuing Melissa to the door, implored her to take back what she had said about the dumplings. To his surprise, Melissa kissed him.