Lady Scrope being in the secret of the surprise in store for the Master Builder, was anxious to amuse herself by being witness to his enlightenment; and it certainly seemed as though she had full right thus to amuse herself, if it were her desire.  Reuben had some savings of his own; but the purchase of the house, had it been made by him alone, would have seriously crippled his ability to carry out his further plans of business.  Thus it was really Lady Scrope’s golden guineas which had paved the way for the young people, and no one could grudge her the enjoyment of seeing them arrive at their new home.

The Master Builder had had some dealings of late with her ladyship; for on hearing what he was employed to do for so many of her friends, she summoned him to fumigate both of her houses when she had got rid of all her temporary inmates; and she followed him about, watching what he did, and amusing herself with making him relate all the gossip he had picked up relative to her acquaintances into whose houses he had been admitted:  how many amongst them had had the plague, how many had died, and all the other details that her insatiable curiosity could glean from him.

And now the bridal couple, together with the bride’s father, were being driven in state through the widest thoroughfares of the city in the hired chariot of Lady Scrope, she chatting all the while, and pointing out this thing and that as they went, openly lamenting that so little remained to remind them of the plague, and prophesying that London had not done with calamity yet.

Gertrude was amazed at the small change in the familiar streets as they neared their home.  True, she saw more strange faces than she had been wont to do, and read new names and new signs upon the gaily-painted boards hanging over the shop doors.  Again and again she missed from some accustomed doorway the familiar face of the former owner, and saw that a stranger had taken the old business.  But then, again, others were there in their old places; friendly faces beamed upon her as she looked out of the window.  It was known upon the bridge itself that she was to come back today; and though the appearance of this fine coach caused a little thrill of surprise, there was a fine buzz of welcome as Reuben put out his head and stopped the postillion at the familiar door; for so many fears had been entertained of Reuben’s death, that there were those who could not believe they should see him again in the flesh until he stood before them.

“What means all this?  Why stop ye here?” asked the Master Builder, with a little agitation in his voice.  “You have a home of your own, you told me, Reuben, to which to take your wife.  Why stop you at your father’s house?  Let the postillion drive to your own abode.”

“This is our own abode, dear father,” said Gertrude softly, alighting from the coach and taking him by the hand to lead him in.

Her other hand was held by her husband; and Lady Scrope was forgotten for the moment by all, as the three passed the familiar threshold amid a chorus of good wishes from friends and neighbours, to which Reuben responded by a variety of signs, Gertrude being too much moved to notice them.