" Figg turned aside to hide the tears that started to his eyes,—for the stout prizefighter, with a man's courage, had a woman's heart,—and the procession again set forward. “To my chagrin, I have. " Ten minutes' walk brought them to the hotel. Wood, who had recovered her good humour, quitted the room she bestowed a hearty embrace on Thames, and she told him laughingly, that she would "defer all she had to propose to him until to-morrow. "Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. But never mind that.
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