"Oh—I—I—why—you see—I don't exactly think that signifies so much—he will see her, you know, next Sunday."
"So, then, he's positively coming?" inquired Mrs. Tag-rag, with a fluttered air.
"Y—e—s—I've no doubt."—(I'll discharge Lutestring to-morrow, thought Tag-rag, with a sharp inward spasm.)
"But aren't we counting our chickens, Taggy, before they're hatched? If Titmouse is all of a sudden become such a catch, he'll be snapped up in a minute, you know, of course"——
"Why, you see, Dolly—we're first in the market, I'm sure of that—his attorney tells me he's to be kept quite snug and quiet under my care for months, and see no one"——
"My gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Tag-rag, holding up both her hands—"if that don't look like a special interposition of Providence, now"——
"So I thought, Tabby, while Mr. Gammon was telling me!" replied her husband.
"Ah, Tag, there are many of 'em, if we were only to be on the look-out for them!" said Mrs. Tag-rag, excitedly.
"I do see it all! It's designed by Providence to get them soon together! When once Mr. Titmouse gets sight of Tabby, and gets into her company—eh! Tab, lovey! you'll do the rest, hem!" said Tag-rag, fondly.
"La, pa! how you do go on!" simpered Miss Tag-rag.