For all that, they quarrelled, he and she.  It would not be easy to say how many times they quarrelled and made it up again during the latter half of the year.  There was a certain unlikeness of temperament, which perpetually made them think more of their difficulties in getting on together than of the pleasure they received from each other’s society.  Ackroyd frequently pondered on the question of how this matter would arrange itself after they were married; at times he was secretly not a little alarmed.  As his wont was, he talked over the question exhaustively with his sister, Mrs. Poole.  The latter for a time refused to converse on the subject at all.  She was by no means sure that Miss Nancarrow was in any sense a desirable acquisition to the family, having conceived a great prejudice against her from the night when Ackroyd had dealings with the police.  A hint to this effect led to a furious outbreak on Luke’s part; he was insulted, he would leave the house and find quarters elsewhere, his sister was a narrow-minded, calumniating woman.  He was bidden to take his departure as soon as he liked, but somehow he did not do so.  Then Mrs. Poole got her husband to make private inquiries about Miss Nancarrow.  Good-natured Jim obeyed her, and had to confess that the report was tolerable enough; the girl was perhaps a little harum-scarum, no worse.

‘Oh, you’re always so soft when there’s talk about women!’ exclaimed his wife, disappointed.  ’I declare you’re as bad as Luke himself.  I shall see what I can find out for myself.’

She too found that no evil report was current about Totty, save that she was a Roman Catholic.  To be sure, this was bad enough, but could not perhaps be made a ground of serious objection to the girl.  So Mrs. Poole fell back on an old line of argument.

‘I’m tired of hearing about your girls!’ she exclaimed, when Luke next broached the subject.  ’When it ain’t one, it’s another.  You must find somebody else to talk to.  One thing I do know—­if I was a girl, I wouldn’t marry you, no, not if you’d a fortune.’

But in the end she yielded, for she saw that the matter was serious.

‘I want to bring Totty here,’ Luke said one night.  ’I can’t always see her in the street, and there’s no other handy place.  What do you say, Jane?’

’You must do as you like.  There’s the parlour you’re welcome to.  But you mustn’t go bringing her down here, mind.  I’ve an idea her and me won’t quite hit it.  You’re welcome to the parlour.’

Further quarrels and reconcilements led to a modification of this standpoint; Mrs. Poole at length said that she was willing to be introduced to Totty, and sent an invitation to tea for Sunday evening.

‘Let him get married, and have done with it,’ she said to her husband.  ’I shall have no peace till he does.  He worrits my life out.’

‘He’ll worrit you a good deal more afterwards, if I’m not mistook,’ remarked Jim, with a dry chuckle.