The legacy was paid, of course, after a few preliminary disclosures as to Mr. David’s actual position.  He begged to send his love to his mother, and to say that he hoped to pay her a dutiful visit by and by; but, at present, his business and near prospect of marriage made it difficult for him to leave home.  His brother replied with much frankness.

“My mother may do as she likes about having you to see her, but, for my part, I don’t want to catch sight of you on the premises again.  When folks have taken a new name, they’d better keep to their new ’quinetance.”

David pocketed the insult along with the eighty-two pounds three, and travelled home again in some triumph at the ease of a transaction which had enriched him to this extent.  He had no intention of offending his brother by further claims on his fraternal recognition, and relapsed with full contentment into the character of Mr. Edward Freely, the orphan, scion of a great but reduced family, with an eccentric uncle in the West Indies. (I have already hinted that he had some acquaintance with imaginative literature; and being of a practical turn, he had, you perceive, applied even this form of knowledge to practical purposes.)

It was little more than a week after the return from his fruitful journey, that the day of his marriage with Penny having been fixed, it was agreed that Mrs. Palfrey should overcome her reluctance to move from home, and that she and her husband should bring their two daughters to inspect little Penny’s future abode and decide on the new arrangements to be made for the reception of the bride.  Mr. Freely meant her to have a house so pretty and comfortable that she need not envy even a wool-factor’s wife.  Of course, the upper room over the shop was to be the best sitting-room; but also the parlour behind the shop was to be made a suitable bower for the lovely Penny, who would naturally wish to be near her husband, though Mr. Freely declared his resolution never to allow his wife to wait in the shop.  The decisions about the parlour furniture were left till last, because the party was to take tea there; and, about five o’clock, they were all seated there with the best muffins and buttered buns before them, little Penny blushing and smiling, with her “crop” in the best order, and a blue frock showing her little white shoulders, while her opinion was being always asked and never given.  She secretly wished to have a particular sort of chimney ornaments, but she could not have brought herself to mention it.  Seated by the side of her yellow and rather withered lover, who, though he had not reached his thirtieth year, had already crow’s-feet about his eyes, she was quite tremulous at the greatness of her lot in being married to a man who had travelled so much—­and before her sister Letty!  The handsome Letitia looked rather proud and contemptuous, thought her nature brother-in-law an odious person, and was vexed with her father and mother for letting Penny marry him.  Dear little Penny!  She certainly did look like a fresh white-heart cherry going to be bitten off the stem by that lipless mouth.  Would no deliverer come to make a slip between that cherry and that mouth without a lip?