"Yes, him who is coming to court and marry me."
"Oh, him," said Sloppy. "When is he coming, miss?"
"What a question! How should I know?" cried the little dressmaker.
"Where is he coming from, miss?"
"Why, goodness gracious, boy, how can I tell that either? He's coming from somewhere, I suppose, and he's coming some day. That's all I know about him."
At this Master Sloppy threw back his head and laughed so heartily, and seemed so merry, that the dressmaker began to laugh too, and even Mr. Riah joined in.
"Now," said Jenny, when she had got her breath again, "you haven't told me yet what you've come to see me for.—Oh, godmother! what's that?"
"It's a bride, miss, a bride. And a wagon, a coach, a chariot, miss!" roared Sloppy, who sprang up and threw the door wide open.
There was a most unusual sound of wheels and voices, and in the same moment the little dressmaker, golden bower of hair and all, was caught up in the arms of Lizzie—Lizzie, in a wonderful silk dress, with shining pearls around her neck, and lace to drive a little dolls' dressmaker wild. Behind Lizzie stood a handsome gentleman, thin and pale yet, but with the happiest look Jenny had ever seen in a man's face in all her little watchful life.
"Come," said this gentleman to Lizzie—"come, Mrs. Wrayburn, let me take Miss Golden Hair, and you bring on the godmother."