As the echoes of the last stroke died away the figure of Mr.Silk turned into the alley.
"You must 'ave 'ad quite a nice walk," said his mother, as she drew back into the room and noted the brightness of his eye.
"Yes," was the reply.
"I s'pose 'e's been and asked you to the wedding ?" said the sarcastic Mrs.Silk.
Her son started and, turning his back on her, wound up the clock.

"Yes, 'e has," he said, with a sly grin.
Mrs.Silk's eyes snapped.

"Well, of all the impudence," she said, breathlessly.
"Well, 'e has," said her son, hugging himself over the joke.

"And, what's more, I'm going." He composed his face sufficiently to bid her "good-night," and, turning a deaf ear to her remonstrances and inquiries, took up a candle and were off whistling.
[Illustration: "He took up his candle and went off whistling."].