at home, the baby in his father's arms; what is more, Gavinia was
looking on smiling and saying, "You bonny litlin, you're windy to have
him dandling you; and no wonder, for he's a father to be proud o'."
Corp was accepting it all with a complacent smirk. Oh, agreeable
change since last we were in this house! oh, happy picture of domestic
bliss! oh--but no, these are not the words; what we meant to say was,
"Gavinia, you limmer, so you have got the better of that man of yours
at last."

How had she contrived it? We have seen her escorting the old lady to
the Dovecot, Corp skulking behind. Our next peep at them shows Gavinia
back at her house, Corp peering through the window and wondering
whether he dare venture in. Gavinia was still bothered, for though she
knew now the story of Tommy's heroism, there was no glove in it, and
it was the glove that maddened her.

"No, I ken nothing about a glove," the old lady had assured her.

"Not a sylup was said about a glove," maintained Christina, who had
given her a highly coloured narrative of what took place in Mrs.
McLean's parlour.

"And yet there's a glove in't as sure as there's a quirk in't,"
Gavinia kept muttering to herself. She rose to have another look at
the hoddy-place in which she had concealed the glove from her husband,
and as she did so she caught sight of him at the window. He bobbed at
once, but she hastened to the door to scarify him. The clock had given
only two ticks when she was upon him, but in that time she had
completely changed her plan of action. She welcomed him with smiles of
pride. Thus is the nimbleness of women's wit measured once and for