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faultless in ankle； laughing in face and mood； in all respects
delicious to behold—there sat the locksmith among all and every
these delights； the sun that shone upon them all： the centre of the
system： the source of light； heat； life； and frank enjoyment in the
bright household world。
And when had Dolly ever been the Dolly of that afternoon？ To
see how she came in； arm…in…arm with Joe； and how she made an
effort not to blush or seem at all confused； and how she made
believe she didn’t care to sit on his side of the table； and how she
coaxed the locksmith in a whisper not to joke； and how her colour
came and went in a little restless flutter of happiness； which made
her do everything wrong； and yet so charmingly wrong that it was
better than right！—why； the locksmith could have looked on at this
（as he mentioned to Mrs Varden when they retired for the night）
for four…and…twenty hours at a stretch； and never wished it done。
The recollections； too； with which they made merry over that
long protracted tea！ The glee with which the locksmith asked Joe
if he remembered that stormy night at the Maypole when he first
asked after Dolly—the laugh they all had； about that night when
she was going out to the party in the sedan…chair—the unmerciful
manner in which they rallied Mrs Varden about putting those
flowers outside that very window—the difficulty Mrs Varden
found in joining the laugh against herself； at first； and the
extraordinary perception she had of the joke when she overcame
it—the confidential statements of Joe concerning the precise day
and hour when he was first conscious of being fond of Dolly； and
Dolly’s blushing admissions； half volunteered and half extorted； as
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to the time from which she dated the discovery that she ‘didn’t
mind’ Joe—here was an exhaustless fund of mirth and
conversation。
Then； there was a great deal to be said regarding Mrs Varden’s
doubts； and motherly alarms； and shrewd suspicions； and it
appeared that from Mrs Varden’s penetration and extreme
sagacity nothing had ever been hidden。 She had known it all
along。 She had seen it from the first。 She had always predicted it。
She had been aware of it before the principals。 She had said
within herself （for she remembered the exact words） ‘that young
Willet is certainly looking after our Dolly； and I must look after
him。’ Accordingly； she had looked after him； and had observed
many little circumstances （all of which she named） so exceedingly
minute that nobody else could make anything out of them even
now； and had； it seemed from first to last； displayed the most
unbounded tact and most consummate generalship。
Of course the night when Joe would ride homeward by the side
of the chaise； and when Mrs Varden would insist upon his going
back again； was not forgotten—nor the night when Dolly fainted
on his name being mentioned—nor the times upon times when
Mrs Varden； ever watchful and prudent； had found her pining in
her own chamber。 In short； nothing was forgotten； and everything
by some means or other brought them back to the conclusion； that
that was the happiest hour in all their lives； consequently； that
everything must have occurred for the best； and nothing could be
suggested which would have made it better。
While they were in the full glow of such discourse as this； there
came a startling knock at the door； opening from the street into
the workshop； which had been kept closed all day that the house
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might be more quiet。 Joe； as in duty bound； would hear of nobody
but himself going to open it； and accordingly left the room for that
purpose。
It would have been odd enough； certainly； if Joe had forgotten
the way to this door； and even if he had； as it was a pretty large
one and stood straight before him； he could not easily have missed
it。 But Dolly； perhaps because she was in the flutter of spirits
before mentioned； or perhaps because she thought he would not
be able to open it with his one arm—she could have had no other
reason—hurried out after him； and they stopped so long in the
passage—no doubt owing to Joe’s entreaties that she would not
expose herself to the draught of July air which must infallibly
come rushing in on this same door being opened—that the knock
was repeated； in a yet more startling manner than before。
‘Is anybody going to open that door？’ cried the locksmith。 ‘Or
shall I come？’
Upon that； Dolly went running back into the parlour； all
dimples and blushes； and Joe opened it with a mighty noise； and
other superfluous demonstrations of being in a violent hurry。
‘Well；’ said the locksmith； when he reappeared： ‘what is it？ eh
Joe？ what are you laughing at？’
‘Nothing； sir。 It’s coming in。’
‘Who’s coming in？ what’s coming in？’ Mrs Varden； as much at a
loss as her husband； could only shake her head in answer to his
inquiring look： so； the locksmith wheeled his chair round to
command a better view of the room…door； and stared at it with his
eyes wide open； and a mingled expression of curiosity and wonder
shining in his jolly face。
Instead of some person or persons straightway appearing；
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divers remarkable sounds were heard； first in the workshop and
afterwards in the little dark passage between it and the parlour； as
though some unwieldy chest or heavy piece of furniture were
being brought in； by an amount of human strength inadequate to
the task。 At length after much struggling and humping； and
bruising of the wall on both sides； the door was forced open as by a
battering…ram； and the locksmith； steadily regarding what
appeared beyond； smote his thigh； elevated his eyebrows； opened
his mouth； and cried in a loud voice expressive of the utmost
consternation：
‘Damme； if it an’t Miggs come back！’
The young damsel whom he named no sooner heard these
words； than deserting a small boy and a very large box by which
she was accompanied； and advancing with such precipitation that
her bonnet flew off her head； burst into the room； clasped her
hands （in which she held a pair of pattens； one in each）； raised her
eyes devotedly to the ceiling； and shed a flood of tears。
‘The old story！’ cried the locksmith； looking at her in
inexpressible desperation。 ‘She was born to be a damper； this
young woman！ nothing can prevent it！’
‘Ho master； ho mim！’ cried Miggs； ‘can I constrain my feelings
in these here once agin united moments！ Ho Mr Warden； here’s
blessedness among relations； sir！ Here’s forgivenesses of injuries；
here’s amicablenesses！’
The locksmith looked from his wife to Dolly； and from Dolly to
Joe； and from Joe to Miggs； with his eyebrows still elevated and
his mouth still open。 When his eyes got back to Miggs； they rested
on her； fascinated。
‘To think；’ cried Miggs with hysterical joy； ‘that Mr Joe； and
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dear Miss Dolly； has raly come together after all as has been said
and done contrairy！ To see them two a…settin’ along with him and
her； so pleasant and in all respects so affable and mild； and me not
knowing of