“Well, don’t you try and make fun o’ me,” said Mr. Russell, ferociously.  “Taking the pledge is ’ard enough to bear without having remarks from you.”

“I didn’t mean them to be remarks, Bill,” said the other, mildly.  “But if you tell about me, you know, Selina’ll see through your little game.”

“I’m about sick o’ the whole thing,” said Mr. Russell, desperately.  “I ain’t ‘ad a drink outside o’ my own house for pretty near a fortnight.  I shall ask Selina to-morrow night, and settle it.”

“Ask her?” said the amazed Mr. Vickers.  “Ask ’er what?”

“Ask ’er to marry me,” said the other, doggedly.

Mr. Vickers, thoroughly alarmed, argued with him in vain, the utmost concession he could wring from the determined Mr. Russell being a promise to give him a hint to get out of the way.

“I’ll do that for my own sake,” he said, frankly.  “I can do it better alone, and if your old woman is in you get her out too.  Ask ’er to go for a walk; that’ll please Selina.  I don’t know what the gal does want.  I thought turning teetotaler and setting a good example to you would do the trick, if anything would.”

Mrs. Vickers’s utter astonishment next evening, when her husband asked her to go for a walk, irritated that gentleman almost beyond endurance.  Convinced at last that he was not joking, she went upstairs and put on her bonnet, and then stood waiting for the reluctant Mr. Vickers with an air of almost bashful diffidence.

“Joseph is coming in soon,” said Selina, as her parents moved to the door.  “I’m expecting him every minute.”

“I’ll stop and see ’im,” said Mr. Russell.  “There’s something I want to speak to him about partikler.”

Mr. Vickers gave a warning glance at him as he went out, and trembled as he noted his determined aspect.  In a state of considerable agitation he took hold of his wife by the elbow and propelled her along.

It was a cold night, and a strong easterly wind had driven nearly everybody else indoors.  Mr. Vickers shivered, and, moving at a good pace, muttered something to his astonished wife about “a good country walk.”  They quitted the streets and plunged into dark lanes until, in Mr. Vickers’s judgment, sufficient time having elapsed for the worst to have happened, they turned and made their way to the town again.

“There’s somebody outside our house,” said Mrs. Vickers, who had been in a state of amazed discomfort the whole time.

Mr. Vickers approached warily.  Two people were on the doorstep in the attitude of listeners, while a third was making strenuous attempts to peep through at the side of the window-blind.  From inside came the sound of voices raised in dispute, that of Selina’s being easily distinguishable.

“What—­what’s all this?” demanded Mr. Vickers, in trembling tones, as he followed his wife inside and closed the door.

He glanced from Selina, who was standing in front of Mr. Tasker in the manner of a small hen defending an overgrown chicken, to Mr. Russell, who was towering above them and trying to reach him.