And, for answer, poor Margaret, what with one thing and another, sank quietly down in her chair, and fainted. Ben strode into the shop—as much at home amongst the bottles as though he had never quitted them—and came back with some sal volatile.
They were married in less than a month; for Mr. Sale’s chaplaincy would not wait for him. The Rector was ailing as usual, or said he was, and Charles Ashton came over to perform the ceremony. Margaret was in a bright dark silk, a light shawl, and a plain bonnet; they were to go away from the church door, and the boxes were already at the station. Ben, dressed well, and looking not unlike a gentleman, gave her away; but there was no wedding-party. Mrs. Rymer stayed at home in a temper, which I dare say nobody regretted: she considered Margaret ought to have remained single. And after a day or two spent in the seaport town they were to sail from, regaling their eyes with the ships crowding the water, the Reverend Isaac Sale and his wife embarked for their future home in the Bahama Isles.
XIII.
THE OTHER EARRING.
“And if I could make sure that you two boys would behave yourselves and give me no trouble, possibly I might take you this year just for a treat.”
“Behave ourselves!” exclaimed Tod, indignantly. “Do you think we are two children, sir?”
“We would be as good as gold, sir,” I added, turning eagerly to the Squire.
“Well, Johnny, I’m not much afraid but that you would. Perhaps I’ll trust you both, then, Joe.”
“Thank you, father.”