“About a fortnight, brother; that dinner, the other day, when I sang the song, was given in celebration of the wedding.”
“Were you married in a church, Ursula?”
“We were not, brother; none but gorgios, cripples, and lubbenys are ever married in a church: we took each other’s words. Brother, I have been with you near three hours beneath this hedge. I will go to my husband.”
“Does he know that you are here?”
“He does, brother.”
“And is he satisfied?”
“Satisfied! of course. Lor’, you gorgies! Brother, I go to my husband and my house.” And, thereupon, Ursula rose and departed.
After waiting a little time I also arose; it was now dark, and I thought I could do no better than betake myself to the dingle; at the entrance of it I found Mr. Petulengro. “Well, brother,” said he, “what kind of conversation have you and Ursula had beneath the hedge?”
“If you wished to hear what we were talking about, you should have come and sat down beside us; you knew where we were.”
“Well, brother, I did much the same, for I went and sat down behind you.”