'Half-past nine—just the time—off at once;' said the gentleman, whom we need hardly introduce as Mr. Jingle.
'Time—for what?' said the spinster aunt coquettishly.'Licence, dearest of angels—give notice at the church—call you mine, tomorrow'—said Mr. Jingle,and he squeezed the spinster aunt's hand.
'The licence!' said Rachael, blushing.
'The licence,' repeated Mr. Jingle—