It was surprising how particular he was about his linen that morning,--for he went in the morning,--and he arrayed himself in his best clothes; he saw no impropriety, considering the importance of the occasion, in putting on his evening coat.

He even wore his new hat, a thing he had not done more than half a dozen times--at a funeral perhaps, or a fair--since he bought it, three years before.
It was a bright, frosty day, and the little gentleman stepped briskly along the road towards the house of the two sisters.

He felt as light-hearted as any youth who goes a-wooing with a reasonable certainty of a favorable answer from his beloved.

He even sang a little to himself, in a thin, sweet voice, keeping time with his stick, like a drum-major, and dwelling faithfully on all the prolonged notes.
"Believe me," sang Mr.Denner,-- "'Believe me, if all those endearing young charms Which I gaze on so fondly to-day'"-- Mr.Denner's rendering of charms was very elaborate.

But while he was still lingering on the last word, disappointment overtook him.
Coming arm in arm down the road were two small figures.