'I'll have a kitchen-knife near by when I tell him,' she remarked
with decision. 'If he lays a hand on me I'll cut his face open, an'
chance it!'
Mrs. Peckover smiled with tender motherly deprecation of such
extreme measures. But Clem repeated her threat, and there was
something in her eyes which guaranteed the possibility of its
fulfilment.
No personal acquaintance of either the Peckover or the Snowdon
family happened to glance over the list of names which hung in the
registrar's office during these weeks. The only interested person
who had foreknowledge of Clem's wedding was Jane Snowdon, and Jane,
though often puzzled in thinking of the matter, kept her promise to
speak of it to no one. It was imprudence in Clem to have run this
risk, but the joke was so rich that she could not deny herself its
enjoyment; she knew, moreover, that Jane was one of those imbecile
persons who scruple about breaking a pledge. On the eve of her
wedding-day she met Jane as the latter came from Whitehead's, and
requested her to call in the Close next Sunday morning at twelve
o'clock.
'I want you to see my 'usband,' she said, grinning. 'I'm sure you'll
like him.
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