“Yes, a wedding. But don’t be frightened,” said the good-humoured old man; “it’s only Trundle there, and Bella.”

“Oh, is that all?” said Mr. Snodgrass, relieved from a painful doubt which had fallen heavily on his breast. “Give you joy, Sir. How is Joe?”

“Very well,” replied the old gentleman. “Sleepy as ever.”

“And your mother, and the clergyman, and all of ’em?”

“Quite well.”

“Where,” said Mr. Tupman, with an effort⁠—“where is⁠— she , Sir?” and he turned away his head, and covered his eyes with his hand.