He was waiting for me with great impatience. He had been out early with the chaise-cart, and had called at the forge and heard the news. He had prepared a collation for me in the Barnwell parlor, and he too ordered his shopman to "come out of the gangway" as my sacred person passed.

     "My dear friend," said Mr. Pumblechook, taking me by both hands, when he and I and the collation were alone, "I give you joy of your good fortune. Well deserved, well deserved!"

     This was coming to the point, and I thought it a sensible way of expressing himself.

     "To think," said Mr. Pumblechook, after snorting admiration at me for some moments, "that I should have been the humble instrument of leading up to this, is a proud reward."

     I begged Mr. Pumblechook to remember that nothing was to be ever said or hinted, on that point.

     "My dear young friend," said Mr. Pumblechook; "if you will allow me to call you so--"