'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 Tackleton, 'that I was
afraid she'd never comprehend me. Ah, Bertha! Married! Church,
parson, clerk, beadle, glass-coach, bells, breakfast, bride-cake,
favours, marrow-bones, cleavers, and all the rest of the
tomfoolery. 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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