Ted heaved a deep sigh, and looked solemnly from one to the other.

“Theer’s no knowin’ i’ this warld what folks cooms to,” he replied seriously.  “We says one thing an’ we reckon we’se do it, an’ when th’ time cooms it’s impossible.”

A blank silence fell upon the company, broken presently by Joe.

“Why,” he said, “thou doesn’t mean thou’rt goin’ to carry out this here business?”

Ted nodded, seriously and regretfully.

There was a general shout.

“Thou’rt never goin’ to wed owd Marg’ret Hep.?”

“Hoo’s noan so owd as that cooms to,” retorted Ted indignantly.  “Her an’ me’s mich of an age—­I am goin’ to wed her.  Now then!  I’ve coorted her, an’ we’n been shouted, an’ I’m goin’ to let it go forrud.  Theer!  I hope nobry hasn’t got no objections.”

Nobody hadn’t none, it appeared, though from certain low murmurs and a general shuffling of feet, it was evident that this unexpected outcome of Ted’s joke caused a good deal of dissatisfaction.  Joe, indeed, gave voice to the universal opinion when he observed that it wasn’t what he had looked for, and he couldn’t think it altogether ’andsome of Ted.  Somebody else wanted to know what about their five shillin’?

“Well, an’ what about the five shillin’?” repeated Ted, reddening, however, a little uncomfortably.

“Well, this here isn’t what we expected; nay, not by a long road.  We was lookin’ for summat joy’al, a gradely marlock, thou knows.  This here’s an ord’nary kind o’ business.”

“Ah, we all paid up—­we did that, an’ we’n been waitin’ for thee to look in yonder at Orme’s!  We was all expectin’ a bit of a do, thou knows—­an’ thou’s never so much as coom nigh th’ place.  An’ thou settled to get wed an’ all, wi’out namin’ it to nobry!  It’s scarce honest.”

Ted scratched his jaw reflectively; the argument seemed to touch him.  After a pause he rose and crossed the room to a chest of drawers in the corner.  Unlocking an upper drawer he took out a greasy leathern purse with which he returned to the expectant group.  Opening it, with a kind of groan, he extracted five shillings, which he handed over to Joe Lovelady.

“Theer,” he said, “it is but fair when all’s said an’ done.  Theer! ye can have a wet wi’ that.”

“Reet, I knowed ye wasn’t one as ’ud play us a dirty trick.  Coom along, an’ we’se have a drop all round, an’ drink thy ‘ealth an’ th’ bride’s too.  Ho! ho! ho!  Aye, we’se wish thee an’ thy missus good luck!  Coom, we’se step out an’ mak’ up for lost time.”

“Nay, nay,” said Ted, shaking his head with gentle melancholy.  “I’ll noan go wi’ you—­I met rue it at arter.  Nay, I’ll wish ye good-bye an’ good luck, all on you, but I’ll bide wheer I am.”

He returned thereupon to his concertina, meeting all further persuasions by deep sighs and obdurate shakes of the head; and, finding their efforts useless, the party withdrew at last, to drink his health without him.