“Welcome! welcome!” said he, shaking him by the hand with Dutch fervor.  “I know you from Bog’s description, you see.  Your statement in the morning papers has lifted a load from several hearts, I can tell you.  Bog will be delighted to see you.  He was beginning to be afraid you would not come.  Hallo, Bog!” said, the good old gentleman, shouting up the stairs; “here is Uncle Ith.”

The bridegroom bounded down the stairs with boyish impetuosity, looking so fine that Uncle Ith hardly knew him.  It was difficult to realize that the ungainly, ignorant boy of a few years back, had become this nice-looking, graceful young gentleman.  Thus readily does the rough diamond of a good heart and brain, under the guiding hands of Ambition and Love, take its polish from contact with the world and with society!

“Dear Uncle Ith!” said the bridegroom.

“Happy to see you, Uncle Ith!” exclaimed Fayette Overtop, who, with Marcus Wilkeson and Matthew Maltboy, had been drawn from the second floor at the mention of his name.

Marcus had not before seen Uncle Ith, though he had been thinking of him all day.  The publication of the old man’s affidavit was an entire surprise to Marcus—­Overtop and Maltboy having said nothing to him about it.  Other people read the document with interest, because it solved a mystery.  But to Marcus it wore the profounder, vastly greater importance of clearing the last shadow of foul suspicion from his name.  It may be unnecessary to say, that it also gave rise to learned and interesting, but profitless discussions, in several of the papers, upon the possibilities of perpetual motion—­which lasted until the explosion of a steam boiler under the pavement turned every editor to the consideration of steam boilers, their nature and habits, the rights of owners and of the public, and the necessity of stringent legislation for the better management of those subterranean powers of good and evil.

Upon being introduced to Uncle Ith, Marcus gave the old man’s hand a warm pressure, but said nothing.  But Uncle Ith saw in his eyes an expression of the deepest gratitude, and he knew what it meant; for he had read the report of the inquest at Overtop’s office, and there learned, for the first time, the unhappy connection of Marcus Wilkeson with the Minford affair.

Maltboy, who, being one of the appointed groomsmen of the day, was in extraordinary spirits, was profuse in his congratulations to Uncle Ith, and insisted, rather unnecessarily, upon introducing him to the retired merchants and the bachelor Bank President.  They had all read his affidavit, and regarded him with undisguised interest.

For a man who has always been a lamb in his shyness and self-depreciation, to find himself suddenly transformed into a lion, is a cause of no little embarrassment.  Uncle Ith was so much flustered by all these tokens of popularity, that he could not utter an articulate word, but only mumble, and wipe his heated brow.  He wished that the usages of society would permit him to take off his coat, as he did in the bell tower, and be comfortable.