'What,' he cried, 'my little gipsy lass! Father, you have chosen well. I accept the responsibility.'
. . . . . . .
The honeymoon was spent in the great saloon caravan 'Gipsy Queen.' And it was not one moon only, but many of them, that the happy couple spent in this idyllic and delightful way.
It is needless to say that honest Wallace was one of the party, and he seemed to have become younger than ever now he had all those he loved on earth together.
It would be positively unkind to finish this story without saying a word about good, faithful Chops. He may be found at any time of the day in a large emporium near to St Paul's, and behind the counter where many a good man has served before him, a suave, smiling, and obliging young fellow. It must be confessed that he looks remarkably well in his dark morning coat and patent leather boots, to say nothing of the yard-stick, as he puts the question: 'What will be next, please, ma'am?' There is even a possibility of his being in time to come thrice Lord Mayor of London town. But although he still looms large in private theatricals he will never be an 'Enry Hirving—never, never, never!'
THE END.
Edinburgh: Printed by W. & R. Chambers, Limited.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Nicely.
[B] Marriage-portion or fortune.
[C] Money.