“Well,” he said, scratching his head, with an exceedingly perturbed expression, “this here’s a queer kind o’ business!  I didn’t quite know what I were lettin’ mysel’ in for, it seems.”

Once or twice during the week he called upon his lady-love, who, on one occasion, permitted him to inspect her Savings Bank book, and, on another, presented him with a handsome silver-mounted pipe, which her father had won many years before at some village sports.  It was bestowed, it must be owned, on the understanding that it was never on any account to be used, but Ted’s pride of possession was none the less great.  At the conclusion of each visit she had not failed to make him drink Her Majesty’s health.

On the following Sunday, when the Canon with the portentous “Hem,” and solemn glance round which invariably preceded the announcement of banns, began:  “Be it known unto all here present,” it was observed that the corners of his mouth were twitching in a most peculiar manner, and his voice actually trembled as he coupled the names of Margaret Heptonstall and Edward Wharton.

Had any stranger chanced to enter Thornleigh church at that moment, I fear he would have been much disedified; every single member of the congregation was a-grin; the Canon himself was smiling; the only person who preserved his entire seriousness being Radical Ted himself.

Those among his cronies who were in the secret of the wager considered this gravity affected, and part of the joke; and greeted him hilariously on quitting the church.

“Well done, owd bird!  Thou’s lost no time as how ’tis.”

“Ah,” replied Ted, still solemn, “I haven’t lost mich time.”

“Well, thou’s won th’ bet i’ gradely style!  When wilto coom to Thornleigh Arms to have th’ five shillin’ paid over?”

“Eh, I doubt Ted ‘ud sooner ha’ th’ five shillin’ worth,” suggested one of Ted’s boon companions.

“I dunno,” replied Ted; “I reckon I’d as soon ha’ th’ brass.”

“Ah, but thou’lt coom to Orme’s for it?”

“Nay—­I fancy one on you had best bring it to my place—­hoo met get to hear on ’t, ye know,” he explained with a sheepish smile.

There was a great guffawing and stamping of feet at this.  Ted was slapped on the shoulder, his friends declaring that nobry could beat him.  By-and-by he managed to make his escape, and walked pensively homewards, shaking his head now and then, and muttering to himself:—­

“Ah, hoo’d happen get to hear on ’t if I went yonder; aye, the brass ’ull coom in reet ’nough.  I’ll say nought about that.”

He continued his courting assiduously during the ensuing week, and on the Sunday he and Margaret were “shouted” for the second time.

The ecstasy of his friends knew no bounds.  Was there ever such a chap as Ted for a marlock?  How long would he keep it up? they wondered.  In a day or two the news flew from mouth to mouth that Ted had given the agent six months’ notice, and that he had announced his intention of letting his house and taking up his abode at Margaret’s after their wedding.