“I should have expected that you’d have given up all this sort of thing now, old fellow,” said Lingon; “but I suppose you are having your run out before the knot is tied. I say, though, how well Laura looks!”
“Does she?” said Charley absently; and it was very evident from his quiet abstracted manner, that he was thinking upon other matters.
“Does she! Ah, I think so. But mind you, I’ve an idea that Nelly will grow into a handsomer woman altogether. I like Nelly,” he added simply.
“So do I,” said Charley, starting from his reverie. “She’s a lovable girl.”
“I say, young man,” exclaimed Lingon, “that won’t do; you can’t have them both.”
“Pish!” exclaimed Charley, putting the spurs to his mare. “There, I’m going on. Good-morning, Lingon.”
“But I’m going your way, Charley,” cried the other, spurring up alongside. “Don’t be in such a hurry, man! It isn’t often one sees you now. I want to know when it’s to be. Our girls are sure to ask me, for they’re all red-hot about it.”
“When what’s to be?” said Charley, with a wondering gaze.
“O, come, I say, now, that’s a good un!” laughed Hugh Lingon, till his fat face was full of creases and rolls, some of which threatened to close his little twinkling eyes. “Going to be married, and got it all settled, and not know the day! Ha, ha, ha! Charley Vining, that is a good one! I do like that!” And he gave his friend a hearty slap on the back. “Come, I say, tell us, old fellow!”
“This day month, I believe—there!” said Charley viciously; and again he essayed to leave his friend behind.