His joking now on the subject of Miss Beamish was exquisite fun to the family of Casey, who enjoyed it only as family jokes can be enjoyed.
“You’ll ask me to the wedding, uncle?” said Matilda.
“Sure you’ll be a bridesmaid, Matty.”
“And you’ll have to give me a new dress, a real Parisian one; won’t he, Miss Beamish?”
Miss Beamish bashfully tittered.
“When is it to be, Tim?” asked Mr. Casey.
“Next Thursday, then,” he grinned.
“That’s mighty quick.”
“Delays is dangerous.”
“Right, Tim,” cried Casey. “If I hadn’t asked your sister on the Friday, Joe Mulligan, the tailor would have—”