Betteredge, that my stranger and your three jugglers may turn out to be
pieces of the same puzzle."

"How do you come to know about the jugglers, sir?" I asked, putting one
question on the top of another, which was bad manners, I own. But you
don't expect much from poor human nature--so don't expect much from me.

"I saw Penelope at the house," says Mr. Franklin; "and Penelope told me.
Your daughter promised to be a pretty girl, Betteredge, and she has kept
her promise. Penelope has got a small ear and a small foot. Did the late
Mrs. Betteredge possess those inestimable advantages?"

"The late Mrs. Betteredge possessed a good many defects, sir," says I.
"One of them (if you will pardon my mentioning it) was never keeping to
the matter in hand. She was more like a fly than a woman: she couldn't
settle on anything."

"She would just have suited me," says Mr. Franklin. "I never settle
on anything either. Betteredge, your edge is better than ever. Your
daughter said as much, when I asked for particulars about the jugglers.
'Father will tell you, sir. He's a wonderful man for his age; and he
expresses himself beautifully.' Penelope's own words--blushing divinely.
Not even my respect for you prevented me from--never mind; I knew her
when she was a child, and she's none the worse for it. Let's be serious.
What did the jugglers do?"

I was something dissatisfied with my daughter--not for letting Mr.
Franklin kiss her; Mr. Franklin was welcome to THAT--but for forcing me
to tell her foolish story at second hand. However, there was no help for
it now but to mention the circumstances. Mr. Franklin's merriment all