brogues gave place to silent pumps, his leathern bendy to a fashionable hat, and his coarse grey jacket to a coat with tails.  Moreover, he began to bow and smile to the ladies when they entered the shop; he also became quite a connoisseur in teas and confections; he recommended them to them, and he bowed and smiled again as they left.  Such was the work of less than two years; and before three went round, there was not a smarter or a better dressed youth in all Carlisle than William Sim.  He became a favourite subject of conversation amongst the young belles; and there was not one of them who, if disengaged, would have said to him, “Get thee behind me.”  Miss Carnaby heard the conversation of her young companions, and she gradually became conscious that William was not a boy; in fact, she began to wonder how she had ever thought so, for he, as she said unto herself, was “certainly a very interesting young man.”  Within other four years, and before the period of his apprenticeship had expired, William began to repeat poetry—­some said to write it, but that was not the fact; he only twisted or altered a few words now and then, to suit the occasion; and almost every line ended with words of such soft sounds as bliss, kiss—­love, dove—­joy, cloy, and others equally sweet, the delightful meanings of which are only to be met with in the sentimental glossary.  He now gave Miss Carnaby his arm to church; and, on leaving it in the afternoons, they often walked into the fields together.  On such occasions,

  “Talk of various kinds deceived the road;”

and even when they were silent, their silence had an eloquence of its own.  One day they had wandered farther than their wont, and they stood on the little bridge where the two kingdoms meet, about half a mile below Gretna.  I know not what soft persuasion he employed, but she accompanied him up the hill which leadeth through the village of Springfield, and they went towards the far-famed Green together.  In less than an hour, Miss Carnaby that was, returned towards Carlisle as Mrs. Sim, leaning affectionately on her husband’s arm.

When the old grocer heard of what had taken place, he was exceedingly wroth; and although, as has been said, William stood high in his favour, he thus addressed him—­

“Ay, ay, sir!—­fine doings!  This comes of your Sunday walking!  And I suppose you say that my daughter is yours—­that she is your wife; and she may be yours—­but I’ll let you know, sir, my money is mine; and I’ll cut you both off.  You shan’t have a sixpence.  I’ll rather build a church, sir; I’ll give it towards paying off the national debt, you rascal.  You would steal my daughter—­eh!”

Thus spoke Mr. Carnaby in his wrath; but when the effervescence of his indignation had subsided, he extended to both the hand of forgiveness, and resigned his business in favour of his son-in-law.