“It wasn’t anything particular, dear,” said the lady evasively.

“It must have been something, love,” urged Mr. Bumble. “Won’t you tell your own B. ?”

“Not now,” rejoined the lady; “one of these days. After we’re married, dear.”

“After we’re married!” exclaimed Mr. Bumble. “It wasn’t any impudence from any of them male paupers as⁠—”

“No, no, love!” interposed the lady, hastily.

“If I thought it was,” continued Mr. Bumble; “if I thought as any one of ’em had dared to lift his wulgar eyes to that lovely countenance⁠—”