Mr. Russell whistled.  “I’d forgot him,” he exclaimed, “but I expect she only took him becos she couldn’t get anybody else.”

Mr. Vickers eyed him sternly, but, reflecting that Selina was well able to fight her own battles, forbore to reply.

“She must ha’ told him,” pursued Mr. Russell, following up a train of thought.  “Nobody in their senses would want to marry Selina for anything else.”

“Ho! indeed,” said Mr. Vickers, coldly.

“Unless they was mad,” admitted the other.  “What are you going to do about it?” he inquired, suddenly.

“I shall think it over,” said Mr. Vickers, with dignity.  “As soon as you’ve gone I shall sit down with a quiet pipe and see what’s best to be done.”

Mr. Russell nodded approval.  “First thing you do, you put the paper back where you got it from,” he said, warningly.

“I know what I’m about,” said Mr. Vickers.  “I shall think it over when you’re gone and make up my mind what to do.”

“Don’t you do nothing in a hurry,” advised Mr. Russell, earnestly.  “I’m going to think it, over, too.”

Mr. Vickers stared at him in surprise.  “You?” he said, disagreeably.

“Yes, me,” replied the other.  “After all, what’s looks?  Looks ain’t everything.”

His friend looked bewildered, and then started furiously as the meaning of Mr. Russell’s remark dawned upon him.  He began to feel like a miser beset by thieves.

“What age do you reckon you are, Bill?” he inquired, after a long pause.

“I’m as old as I look,” replied Mr. Russell, simply, “and I’ve got a young face.  I’d sooner it was anybody else than Selina; but, still, you can’t ’ave everything.  If she don’t take me sooner than young Joseph I shall be surprised.”

Mr. Vickers regarded him with undisguised astonishment.

“I might ha’ married scores o’ times if I’d liked,” said Mr. Russell, with a satisfied air.

“Don’t you go doing nothing silly,” said Mr. Vickers, uneasily.  “Selina can’t abear you.  You drink too much.  Why, she’s talking about making young Joseph sign the pledge, to keep’im steady.”

Mr. Russell waved his objections aside.  “I can get round her,” he said, with cheery confidence.  “I ain’t kept ferrets all these years for nothing.  I’m not going to let all that money slip through my fingers for want of a little trying.”

He began his courtship a few days afterwards in a fashion which rendered Mr. Vickers almost helpless with indignation.  In full view of Selina, who happened to be standing by the door, he brought her unfortunate father along Mint Street, holding him by the arm and addressing him in fond but severe tones on the surpassing merits of total abstinence and the folly of wasting his children’s money on beer.

“I found ’im inside the ‘Horse and Groom,"’ he said to the astonished Selina; “they’ve got a new barmaid there, and the pore gal wasn’t in the house ’arf an hour afore she was serving him with beer.  A pot, mind you.”