and feather； broadsword； sash； and coat of scarlet； which any man
learned in such matters would have known from their make and
pattern to be the uniform of a serjeant in the Royal East London
Volunteers。
As the locksmith put his mug down； empty； on the bench
whence it had smiled on him before； he glanced at these articles
with a laughing eye； and looking at them with his head a little on
one side； as though he would get them all into a focus； said；
leaning on his hammer：
‘Time was； now； I remember； when I was like to run mad with
the desire to wear a coat of that colour。 If any one （except my
father） had called me a fool for my pains； how I should have fired
and fumed！ But what a fool I must have been； sure…ly！’
‘Ah！’ sighed Mrs Varden； who had entered unobserved。 ‘A fool
indeed。 A man at your time of life； Varden； should know better
now。’
‘Why； what a ridiculous woman you are； Martha；’ said the
locksmith； turning round with a smile。
‘Certainly；’ replied Mrs V。 with great demureness。 ‘Of course I
am。 I know that； Varden。 Thank you。’
‘I mean—’ began the locksmith。
‘Yes；’ said his wife； ‘I know what you mean。 You speak quite
plain enough to be understood； Varden。 It’s very kind of you to
adapt yourself to my capacity； I am sure。’
‘Tut； tut； Martha；’ rejoined the locksmith； ‘don’t take offence at
nothing。 I mean； how strange it is of you to run down volunteering；
when it’s done to defend you and all the other women； and our
own fireside and everybody else’s； in case of need。’
‘It’s unchristian；’ cried Mrs Varden； shaking her head。
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‘Unchristian！’ said the locksmith。 ‘Why； what the devil—’
Mrs Varden looked at the ceiling； as in expectation that the
consequence of this profanity would be the immediate descent of
the four…post bedstead on the second floor； together with the best
sitting…room on the first； but no visible judgment occurring； she
heaved a deep sigh； and begged her husband； in a tone of
resignation； to go on； and by all means to blaspheme as much as
possible； because he knew she liked it。
The locksmith did for a moment seem disposed to gratify her；
but he gave a great gulp； and mildly rejoined：
‘I was going to say； what on earth do you call it unchristian for？
Which would be most unchristian； Martha—to sit quietly down
and let our houses be sacked by a foreign army； or to turn out like
men and drive ’em off？ Shouldn’t I be a nice sort of a Christian； if I
crept into a corner of my own chimney and looked on while a
parcel of whiskered savages bore off Dolly—or you？’
When he said ‘or you；’ Mrs Varden； despite herself； relaxed into
a smile。 There was something complimentary in the idea。 ‘In such
a state of things as that； indeed—’ she simpered。
‘As that！’ repeated the locksmith。 ‘Well； that would be the state
of things directly。 Even Miggs would go。 Some black tambourine…
player； with a great turban on； would be bearing her off； and；
unless the tambourine…player was proof against kicking and
scratching； it’s my belief he’d have the worst of it。 Ha ha ha！ I’d
forgive the tambourine…player。 I wouldn’t have him interfered with
on any account； poor fellow。’ And here the locksmith laughed
again so heartily； that tears came into his eyes—much to Mrs
Varden’s indignation； who thought the capture of so sound a
Protestant and estimable a private character as Miggs by a pagan
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negro； a circumstance too shocking and awful for contemplation。
The picture Gabriel had drawn； indeed； threatened serious
consequences； and would indubitably have led to them； but luckily
at that moment a light footstep crossed the threshold； and Dolly；
running in； threw her arms round her old father’s neck and
hugged him tight。
‘Here she is at last！’ cried Gabriel。 ‘And how well you look； Doll；
and how late you are； my darling！’
How well she looked？ Well？ Why； if he had exhausted every
laudatory adjective in the dictionary； it wouldn’t have been praise
enough。 When and where was there ever such a plump； roguish；
comely； bright…eyed； enticing； bewitching； captivating； maddening
little puss in all this world； as Dolly！ What was the Dolly of five
years ago； to the Dolly of that day！ How many coachmakers；
saddlers； cabinet…makers； and professors of other useful arts； had
deserted their fathers； mothers； sisters； brothers； and； most of all；
their cousins； for the love of her！ How many unknown
gentlemen—supposed to be of mighty fortunes； if not titles—had
waited round the corner after dark； and tempted Miggs the
incorruptible； with golden guineas； to deliver offers of marriage
folded up in love…letters！ How many disconsolate fathers and
substantial tradesmen had waited on the locksmith for the same
purpose； with dismal tales of how their sons had lost their
appetites； and taken to shut themselves up in dark bedrooms； and
wandering in desolate suburbs with pale faces； and all because of
Dolly Varden’s loveliness and cruelty！ How many young men； in
all previous times of unprecedented steadiness； had turned
suddenly wild and wicked for the same reason； and； in an ecstasy
of unrequited love； taken to wrench off door…knockers； and invert
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the boxes of rheumatic watchmen！ How had she recruited the
king’s service； both by sea and land； through rendering desperate
his loving subjects between the ages of eighteen and twenty…five！
How many young ladies had publicly professed； with tears in their
eyes； that for their tastes she was much too short； too tall； too bold；
too cold； too stout； too thin； too fair； too dark—too everything but
handsome！ How many old ladies； taking counsel together； had
thanked Heaven their daughters were not like her； and had hoped
she might come to no harm； and had thought she would come to
no good； and had wondered what people saw in her； and had
arrived at the conclusion that she was ‘going off’ in her looks； or
had never come on in them； and that she was a thorough
imposition and a popular mistake！
And yet here was this same Dolly Varden； so whimsical and
hard to please that she was Dolly Varden still； all smiles and
dimples and pleasant looks； and caring no more for the fifty or
sixty young fellows who at that very moment were breaking their
hearts to marry her； than if so many oysters had been crossed in
love and opened afterwards。
Dolly hugged her father as has been already stated； and having
hugged her mother also； accompanied both into the little parlour
where the cloth was already laid for dinner； and where Miss
Miggs—a trifle more rigid and bony than of yore—received her
with a sort of hysterical gasp； intended for a smile。 Into the hands
of that young virgin； she delivered her bonnet and walking dress
（all of a dreadful； artful； and designing kind）； and then said with a
laugh； which rivalled the locksmith’s music； ‘How glad I always am
to be at home again！’
‘And how glad we always are； Doll；’ said her father； putting
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back the dark hair from her sparkling eyes； ‘to have you at home。
Give me a kiss。’
If there had been anybody of the male kind there to see her do
it—but there was not—it was a mercy。
‘I don’t like your being at the Warren；’ said the locksmith； ‘I
can’t bear to have you out of my sight。 And what is the news over
yonder； Doll？’
‘What news there is； I think you know already；’ replied his
daughter。 ‘I am sure you do though。’
‘Ay？’ cried the locksmith。 ‘What’s that？’
‘Come； come；’ said Dolly； ‘you know very well。 I want you to tell
me why Mr Haredale—oh； how gruff he is again； to be sure！—has
been away from home for some days past； and why he is travelling
about （we know he is travelling； because of his letters） without
telling his own niece why or wherefore。’
‘Miss Emma doesn’t want to know； I’ll swear；’ returned the
l
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