But Dora had flown. "Well, come in, come in," said Miss Bird; "come in and read your wretched little paper----"
"Pardon?" inquired Cleave.
"Your paper!" howled Miss Bird; "your wretched little rag of a paper that squeals like a pig when anybody has a glass of beer."
"I--er--think--I--er--I think I will not come in just now," bleated Cleave, retiring precipitately.
"Bah!" muttered Miss Bird, "everything's upside down. That man ought to be in skirts, and Mortimer ought to be shot for not eloping with Dora!"
And so the preparations for the wedding continued apace. Of course, economy had to be studied, wherefore Mrs Maybury hired an industrious seamstress to come and sew every day; and sew the seamstress did, till her fingers ached. Miss Bird sat by and threw out hints; H. R. snapped at Miss Bird, and Mrs Maybury snapped at H. R. Finally, the two latter would snap at Dora, who, after firing up at them, would retire to her bedroom, presently descending softly to sit in the drawing-room, the others being in possession of the dining-room.
So passed this damp January time, and the wedding day drew nearer and nearer. Occasionally Mr Jefferson appeared, very dapper and smiling, in evening dress, and carried Dora off to a theatre. But after these excursions, Dora would be very silent, and slip off to her bedroom at the first possible moment.
Mr Maybury and Dora had a quiet evening together at the theatre. They went to see a comedy--a piece in which laughter and tears trod upon one another's heels--a good little piece whose like is not often seen on London boards. They sat hand-in-hand, as in the old days, this father and daughter, and when it was all over, and they came out into the street, their faces were sad. For they were to part soon--so soon.
One day Koko met Jim, by appointment, at Charing Cross, and they both set off for Regent Street to buy Dora a wedding present.
"I know a shop," said Jim; "bought some things there at Christmas."