his nephew was hotter than ever.  “Mr. Harry must have put his foot in it somehow.”  That had been Matthew’s assurance, made with much sorrow to the house-keeper, or head-servant, at the rectory.  And then Joe had declared that all the misfortunes which had attended Mr. Prosper’s courtship had been attributed to Harry’s evil influences.  At first this could not but be a matter of joke.  Joe’s stories as he told them were full of ridicule, and had no doubt come to him from Miss Thoroughbung, either directly or through some of the ladies at Buntingford.  “It does seem that your aunt has been too many for him.”  This had been said by Molly, and had been uttered in the presence both of Joe Thoroughbung and of Harry.

“Why, yes,” said Joe.  “She has had him under the thong altogether, and has not found it difficult to flog him when she had got him by the hind leg.”  This idea had occurred to Joe from his remembrance of a peccant hound in the grasp of a tyrant whip.  “It seems that he offered her money.”

“I should hardly think that,” said Harry, standing up for his uncle.

“She says so; and says that she declared that ten thousand pounds would be the very lowest sum.  Of course she was laughing at him.”

“Uncle Prosper doesn’t like to be laughed at,” said Molly.

“And she did not spare him,” said Joe.  And then she had by heart the whole story, how she had called him Peter, and how angry he had been at the appellation.

“Nobody calls him Peter except my mother,” said Harry.

“I should not dream of calling him Uncle Peter,” said Molly.  “Do you mean to say that Miss Thoroughbung called him Peter?  Where could she have got the courage?” To this Joe replied that he believed his aunt had courage for anything under the sun.  “I don’t think that she ought to have called him Peter,” continued Molly.  “Of course after that there couldn’t be a marriage.”

“I don’t quite see why not,” said Joe.  “I call you Molly, and I expect you to marry me.”

“And I call you Joe, and I expect you to marry me; but we ain’t quite the same.”

“The Squire of Buston,” said Joe, “considers himself Squire of Buston.  I suppose that the old Queen of Heaven didn’t call Jupiter Jove till they’d been married at any rate some centuries.”

“Well done, Joe,” said Harry.

“He’ll become fellow of a college yet,” said Molly.

“If you’ll let me alone I will,” said Joe.  “But only conceive the kind of scene there must have been at the house up there when Aunt Matty had forced her way in among your uncle’s slippers and dressing-gowns.  I’d have given a five-pound note to have seen and heard it.”

“I’d have given two if it had never occurred.  He had written me a letter which I had taken as a pardon in full for all my offences.  He had assured me that he had no intention of marrying, and had offered to give me back my old allowance.  Now I am told that he has quarrelled with me again altogether, because of some light word as to me and my concerns spoken by this vivacious old aunt of yours.  I wish your vivacious old aunt had remained at Buntingford.”