'Yes,' replied Bertha. 'This is the day.'
'I thought so,' said Tackleton. 'I should like to
join the party.'
'Do you hear that, father!' cried the Blind Girl in
an ecstasy.
'Yes, yes, I hear it,' murmured Caleb, with the fixed
look of a sleep-walker; 'but I don't believe it. It's
one of my lies, I've no doubt.'
'You see I -- I want to bring the Peerybingles a
little more into company with May Fielding,' said
Tackleton. 'I am going to be married to May.'
'Married!' cried the Blind Girl, starting from him.
'She's such a con-founded Idiot,' muttered Tack-
leton, 'that I was afraid she'd never comprehend me.
Ah, Bertha! Married! Church, parson, clerk, beadle,
glass-coach, bells, breakfast, bride-cake, favours, mar-
row-bones, cleavers, and all the rest of the tom-
foolery. A wedding, you know; a wedding. Don't
you know what a wedding is?'
'I know,' replied the Blind Girl, in a gentle tone.
'I understand!'
'Do you?' muttered Tackleton. 'It's more than I
expected. Well! On that account I want to join
the party, and to bring May and her mother.
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