waiting an appropriate time for matrimonial sacrifice.  William Summerkin was the young man’s name; and as it was known that Mr Summerkin was to inherit a fortune amounting to three hundred pounds from his maiden aunt, it was considered that Polly Toogood was not doing amiss.  ’I’ll give you three hundred pounds, my boy, just to put a few sheets on the beds,’ said Toogood the father, ’and when the old birds are both dead she’ll have a thousand pounds out of the nest.  That’s the extent of Polly’s fortune;—­so now you know.’  Summerkin was, however, quite contented to have his own money settled on his darling Polly, and the whole thing was looked at with pleasant and propitious eyes by the Toogood connexion.

When John Eames entered the drawing-room Summerkin and Polly were already there.  Summerkin blushed up to his eyes, of course, but Polly sat as demurely as though she had been accustomed to having lovers all her life.  ‘Mamma will be down almost immediately, John,’ said Polly as soon as the first greetings were over, ‘and papa has come in, I know.’

‘Summerkin,’ said Johnny, ’I’m afraid you left the office before four o’clock.’

‘No, I did not,’ said Summerkin.  ‘I deny it.’

‘Polly,’ said her cousin, ’you should keep him in better order.  He will certainly come to grief if he goes on like this.  I suppose you could do without him for half an hour.’

‘I don’t want him I assure you,’ said Polly.

‘I have only been here just five minutes,’ said Summerkin, ’and I came because Mrs Toogood asked me to do a commission.’

‘That’s civil to you, Polly,’ said John.

‘It’s quite as civil as I wish him to be,’ said Polly.  ’And as for you, John, everybody knows that you’re a goose, and that you always were a goose.  Isn’t he always doing foolish things at the office, William?’ But as John Eames was rather a great man at the Income-Tax Office, Summerkin could not fall into his sweetheart’s joke on this subject, finding it easier and perhaps safer to twiddle the bodkins of Polly’s work-basket.  Then Toogood and Mrs Toogood entered the room together, and the lovers were able to be alone again during the general greetings with which Johnny was welcomed.

‘You don’t know the Silverbridge people—­do you?’ asked Mr Toogood.  Eames said that he did not.  He had been at Silverbridge more than once, but did not know very much of the Silverbridgians.  ’Because Walker is coming here to dine here.  Walker is the leading man in Silverbridge.’

‘And what is Walker;—­besides being the leading man in Silverbridge?’

’He’s a lawyer.  Walker and Winthrop.  Everybody knows Walker in Barsetshire.  I’ve been down at Barchester since I saw you.’

‘Have you indeed?’ said Johnny.

’And I’ll tell you what I’ve been about.  You know Mr Crawley; don’t you?’

’The Hogglestock clergyman that has come to grief?  I don’t know him personally.  He’s a sort of cousin by marriage, you know.’