"I shouldn't go, 'Earty, if I was you. I shouldn't really; I should jest stop 'ere and listen to wot I 'ave to say."
"I have been very patient with you for some years past, Joseph," began Mr. Hearty, "and I must confess——"
"You 'ave, 'Earty," interrupted Bindle quietly, looking at him over a flaming match, "you 'ave. If you wasn't wanted in the greengrocery line, you'd 'ave been on a monument, you're that patient. 'As it ever struck you, 'Earty,"—there was a sterner note in Bindle's voice,—"'as it ever struck you that sometimes coves is patient because they're afraid to knock the other cove down?"
"I refuse to discuss such matters, Joseph," said Mr. Hearty with dignity.
"Well, well, 'Earty! p'raps you're right," responded Bindle. "Least said, soonest mended. So them kids ain't goin' to get married on Toosday, you say," he continued calmly.
"I thought I had made that clear." Mr. Hearty's hands shook with nervousness.
"You 'ave, 'Earty, you 'ave," said Bindle mournfully.
"What right have you to—to interfere in—in such matters?" demanded Mr. Hearty, deliberately endeavouring to work himself up into a state of indignation. "Millie shall marry when I please, and her husband shall be of my choosing."
Bindle looked at Mr. Hearty in surprise. He had never known him so determined.
"You think because you're Martha's brother-in-law,"—Mr. Hearty was meticulously accurate in describing the exact relationship existing between them,—"that gives you a right to—to order me about," he concluded rather lamely.