“M-m-most of it,” stammered Mrs. Green, gazing in a fascinated fashion at the contorted visage of her husband.

“All except a chair in the kitchen and three stair-rods,” said Betty.

“Speak when you’re spoke to, miss!” snarled her stepfather.  “When we married we mixed our furniture up together—­mixed it up so that it would be impossible to tell which is which.  Nobody could.”

“For the matter o’ that, you could have all the kitchen chairs and all the stair-rods,” said Mr. Letts, generously.  “However, I don’t want to do anything in a hurry, and I shouldn’t dream of going to Australia without Betty.  It rests with her.”

“She’s going to be married,” said Mr. Green, hastily; “and if she wasn’t she wouldn’t turn her poor, ailing mother out of house and home, that I`m certain of.  She’s not that sort.  We’ve had a word or two at times—­me and her—­but I know a good daughter when I see one.”

“Married?” echoed Mr. Letts, as his left arm relaxed its pressure.  “Who to?”

“Young fellow o’ the name of Henry Widden,” replied Mr. Green, “a very steady young fellow; a great friend of mine.”

“Oh!” said Mr. Letts, blankly.

“I’d got an idea, which I’ve been keeping as a little surprise,” continued Mr. Green, speaking very rapidly, “of them living here with us, and saving house-rent and furniture.”

Mr. Letts surveyed him with a dejected eye.

“It would be a fine start for them,” continued the benevolent Mr. Green.

Mr. Letts, by a strong effort, regained his composure.

“I must have a look at him first,” he said, briskly.  “He mightn’t meet with my approval.”

“Eh?” said Mr. Green, starting.  “Why, if Betty——­”

“I must think it over,” interrupted Mr. Letts, with a wave of his hand.  “Betty is only nineteen, and, as head of the family, I don’t think she can marry without my consent.  I’m not sure, but I don’t think so.  Anyway, if she does, I won’t have her husband here sitting in my chairs, eating off my tables, sleeping in my beds, wearing out my stair-rods, helping himself——­”

“Stow it,” said Miss Foster, calmly.

Mr. Letts started, and lost the thread of his discourse.  “I must have a look at him,” he concluded, lamely; “he may be all right, but then, again, he mightn’t.”

He finished his tea almost in silence, and, the meal over, emphasized his position as head of the family by taking the easy-chair, a piece of furniture sacred to Mr. Green, and subjecting that injured man to a catechism which strained his powers of endurance almost to breaking-point.

“Well, I sha’n’t make any change at present,” said Mr. Letts, when the task was finished.  “There’s plenty of room here for us all, and, so long as you and me agree, things can go on as they are.  To-morrow morning I shall go out and look for a job.”

He found a temporary one almost at once, and, determined to make a favorable impression, worked hard all day.  He came home tired and dirty, and was about to go straight to the wash-house to make his toilet when Mr. Green called him in.