"Yes, father."

"Why?"

"A headache."

"Not a heartache?"

"I said a headache, father."

"Doctor Marigold must prescribe for that headache."

She took up the book of my Prescriptions, and held it up with a forced
smile; but seeing me keep still and look earnest, she softly laid it down
again, and her eyes were very attentive.

"The Prescription is not there, Sophy."

"Where is it?"

"Here, my dear."

I brought her young husband in, and I put her hand in his, and my only
farther words to both of them were these: "Doctor Marigold's last
Prescription. To be taken for life." After which I bolted.

When the wedding come off, I mounted a coat (blue, and bright buttons),
for the first and last time in all my days, and I give Sophy away with my
own hand. There were only us three and the gentleman who had had charge
of her for those two years. I give the wedding dinner of four in the