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Herbert thanked his acquaintances, who, begging him not to mention it, departed.

“Well, that’s over!” breathed Herbert with a sigh of relief. “It’s too soon to go back. Let us walk round by Moorthorne.”

“I should love to!” said Alice.

It was a most enjoyable walk. In the heights of Moorthorne they gradually threw off the depressing influence of those four Windsor chairs, and realized their bliss. They reached Paddock Place again at a quarter to one o’clock, which, as they were a very methodical and trustworthy pair, was precisely the moment at which they had meant to reach it. The idea was that they should call on Si and announce to him, respectfully: “Uncle, we think it only right to tell you that we are married. We hope you will not take it ill, we should like to be friends.” They would then leave the old man to eat the news with his dinner. A cab was to be at the door at one o’clock to carry them to Knype Station, where they would partake of the wedding breakfast in the first-class refreshment room, and afterwards catch the two-forty to Blackpool, there to spend a honeymoon of six days.

This was the idea.

Herbert was already rehearsing in his mind the exact tone in which he should say to Si: “Uncle, we think it only right–” when, as they approached the house, they both saw a white envelope suspended under the knocker of the door. It was addressed to “Mr Herbert Roden,” in the handwriting of Silas. The moment was dramatic. As they had not yet discussed whether correspondence should be absolutely common property, Alice looked discreetly away while Herbert read: “Dear nephew, I’ve gone on for a week or two on business, and sent Jane Sarah home. Her’s in need of a holiday. You must lodge at Bratt’s meantime. I’ve had your things put in there, and they’ve gotten the keys of the house.–Yours affly, S. Roden.” Bratt’s was next door but one, and Jane Sarah was the Roden servant, aged fifty or more.

“Well, I’m–!” exclaimed Herbert.

“Well, I never!” exclaimed Alice when she had read the letter. “What’s the meaning–?”

“Don’t ask me!” Herbert replied.

“Going off like this!” exclaimed Alice.

“Yes, my word!” exclaimed Herbert.

“But what are you to do?” Alice asked.

“Get the key from Bratt’s, and get my box, if he hasn’t had it carried in to Bratt’s already, and then wait for the cab to come.”

“Just fancy him shutting you out of the house like that, and no warning!” Alice said, shocked.

“Yes. You see he’s very particular about his house. He’s afraid I might ruin it, I suppose. He’s just like an old maid, you know, only a hundred times worse.” Herbert paused, as if suddenly gripped in a tremendous conception. “I have it!” he stated positively. “I have it! I have it!”

“What?” Alice demanded.

“Suppose we spend our honeymoon here?”

“In this house?”

“In this house. It would serve him right.”

Alice smiled humorously. “Then the house wouldn’t get damp,” she said. “And there would be a great saving of expense. We could buy those two easy-chairs with what we saved.”

“Exactly,” said Herbert. “And after all, seaside lodgings, you know…. And this house isn’t so bad either.”

“But if he came back and caught us?” Alice suggested.

“Well, he couldn’t eat us!” said Herbert.

The clear statement of this truth emboldened Alice. “And he’d no right to turn you out!” she said in wifely indignation.

Without another word Herbert went into Bratt’s and got the keys. Then the cab came up with Alice’s luggage lashed to the roof, and the driver, astounded, had to assist in carrying it into Si’s house. He was then dismissed, and not with a bouncing tip either. We are in the Five Towns. He got a reasonable tip, no more. The Bratts, vastly intrigued, looked inconspicuously on.

Herbert banged the door and faced Alice in the lobby across her chief trunk. The honeymoon had commenced.

“We’d better get this out of the way at once,” said Alice the practical.