“Why?” returned the other. “That’s a new way to receive an invitation. Why—for pleasure—to be sociable, you know, and all that.”
“I thought you were never sociable,” said John, in his plain way.
“As you like; what does it matter? Your company will produce a favorable impression on Mrs. Tackleton that-will-be. You’ll say you’ll come?”
“We have arranged to keep our wedding day at home,” said John. “We think, you see, that home——”
“Bah! What’s home?” cried Tackleton. “Four walls and a ceiling! Why don’t you kill that cricket? I would! I always do! I hate their noise! You’ll say you’ll come, to-morrow evening?”
“You kill the crickets, eh?” said John.
“Scrunch ’em, sir,” returned the other, setting his heel heavily on the floor. “Then you won’t give us to-morrow evening? Well! Next day you go out visiting, I know. I’ll meet you there, and bring my wife that-is-to-be. It’ll do her good. You’re agreeable? Thankee. What’s that?”
Dot is Upset
It was a loud cry from the carrier’s wife; a loud, sharp, sudden cry, that made the room ring like a glass bell that was struck. She had risen from her seat and stood like one transfixed by terror and surprise. The Stranger had gone toward the fire to warm himself, but he was quite still.
“Dot!” cried the carrier, “Darling Dot! What’s the matter?”