“Not at all! You’re right!” said Mr. Omer. “Well, sir, her cousin⁠—you know it’s a cousin she’s going to be married to?”

“Oh yes,” I replied. “I know him well.”

“Of course you do,” said Mr. Omer. “Well, sir! Her cousin being, as it appears, in good work, and well to do, thanked me in a very manly sort of manner for this (conducting himself altogether, I must say, in a way that gives me a high opinion of him), and went and took as comfortable a little house as you or I could wish to clap eyes on. That little house is now furnished right through, as neat and complete as a doll’s parlour; and but for Barkis’s illness having taken this bad turn, poor fellow, they would have been man and wife⁠—I dare say, by this time. As it is, there’s a postponement.”

“And Emily, Mr. Omer?” I inquired. “Has she become more settled?”