was settled betwixt us that Harry should go up to London to the
church named in her marriage lines and see if it was a real marriage
or a make-up, like what you read of in the weekly papers. And Harry
went up, I settling to go the same day to fetch my clothes from
Charleston.

So as soon as I had seen him off by the train, I walked up to
Charleston, and father with me, to fetch my things.

Mrs. Blake--for Mrs. Alderton I can't and won't call her--was out,
and I was able to get my bits of things together comfortable without
her fussing and interfering. But there was a pair of scissors of
mine I couldn't find, and I looked for them high and low till I
remembered that I had lent them to Mrs. Blake the week before. So I
went to her room to look for them, thinking no harm; and there,
looking in her corner cupboard for my scissors, as I had a right to
do, I found something else that I hadn't been looking for; and,
right or wrong, I put that in my pocket and said nothing to father,
and so we went home and sat down to wait for Harry.

He came in by the last train, looking tired and gloomy.

'They were married right enough,' he said. 'I've seen the register,
and I've seen the clerk, and he remembers them being married.'

'Then you'd better have a bit of supper, my boy,' says mother, and
takes it smoking hot out of the oven.

The next day when I had cleared away breakfast, I stood looking into
the street. It was a cold day, and a day when nobody would be out of