'Oh, Mrs.
Corney, what an Angel you are!' The lady was not proof against this burst of feeling.

She sank into Mr.Bumble's arms; and that gentleman in his agitation, imprinted a passionate kiss upon her chaste nose.
'Such porochial perfection!' exclaimed Mr.Bumble, rapturously.

'You know that Mr.Slout is worse to-night, my fascinator ?' 'Yes,' replied Mrs.Corney, bashfully.
'He can't live a week, the doctor says,' pursued Mr.Bumble.

'He is the master of this establishment; his death will cause a wacancy; that wacancy must be filled up.

Oh, Mrs.Corney, what a prospect this opens! What a opportunity for a jining of hearts and housekeepings!' Mrs.Corney sobbed.
'The little word ?' said Mr.Bumble, bending over the bashful beauty.
'The one little, little, little word, my blessed Corney ?' 'Ye--ye--yes!' sighed out the matron.
'One more,' pursued the beadle; 'compose your darling feelings for only one more.