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Sometimes I think she’s tired of us. "Married!—no—no," replied the woollen-draper. He could scarcely blame her. “I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. There's a hundred pounds too much. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him. It's a pity you wouldn't give me the prescription instead of the medicine, so I could have it filled nearer home.
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