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tambourine； and bursting with the spiteful feelings which the
taunt awoke in her fair breast； exploded in the manner we have
witnessed。 Matters having now arrived at a crisis； the locksmith； as
usual； and for the sake of peace and quietness； gave in。
‘What are you crying for； girl？’ he said。 ‘What’s the matter with
you？ What are you talking about hatred for？ I don’t hate you； I
don’t hate anybody。 Dry your eyes and make yourself agreeable； in
Heaven’s name； and let us all be happy while we can。’
The allied powers deeming it good generalship to consider this
a sufficient apology on the part of the enemy； and confession of
having been in the wrong； did dry their eyes and take it in good
part。 Miss Miggs observed that she bore no malice； no not to her
greatest foe； whom she rather loved the more indeed； the greater
persecution she sustained。 Mrs Varden approved of this meek and
forgiving spirit in high terms； and incidentally declared as a
closing article of agreement； that Dolly should accompany her to
the Clerkenwell branch of the association； that very night。 This
was an extraordinary instance of her great prudence and policy；
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having had this end in view from the first； and entertaining a
secret misgiving that the locksmith （who was bold when Dolly was
in question） would object； she had backed Miss Miggs up to this
point； in order that she might have him at a disadvantage。 The
manoeuvre succeeded so well that Gabriel only made a wry face；
and with the warning he had just had； fresh in his mind； did not
dare to say one word。
The difference ended； therefore； in Miggs being presented with
a gown by Mrs Varden and half…a…crown by Dolly； as if she had
eminently distinguished herself in the paths of morality and
goodness。 Mrs V。； according to custom； expressed her hope that
Varden would take a lesson from what had passed and learn more
generous conduct for the time to come； and the dinner being now
cold and nobody’s appetite very much improved by what had
passed； they went on with it； as Mrs Varden said； ‘like Christians。’
As there was to be a grand parade of the Royal East London
Volunteers that afternoon； the locksmith did no more work； but
sat down comfortably with his pipe in his mouth； and his arm
round his pretty daughter’s waist； looking lovingly on Mrs V。； from
time to time； and exhibiting from the crown of his head to the sole
of his foot； one smiling surface of good humour。 And to be sure；
when it was time to dress him in his regimentals； and Dolly；
hanging about him in all kinds of graceful winning ways； helped to
button and buckle and brush him up and get him into one of the
tightest coats that ever was made by mortal tailor； he was the
proudest father in all England。
‘What a handy jade it is！’ said the locksmith to Mrs Varden； who
stood by with folded hands—rather proud of her husband too—
while Miggs held his cap and sword at arm’s length； as if
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Barnaby Rudge 450
mistrusting that the latter might run some one through the body of
its own accord； ‘but never marry a soldier； Doll； my dear。’
Dolly didn’t ask why not； or say a word； indeed； but stooped her
head down very low to tie his sash。
‘I never wear this dress；’ said honest Gabriel； ‘but I think of
poor Joe Willet。 I loved Joe； he was always a favourite of mine。
Poor Joe！—Dear heart； my girl； don’t tie me in so tight。’
Dolly laughed—not like herself at all—the strangest little laugh
that could be—and held her head down lower still。
‘Poor Joe！’ resumed the locksmith； muttering to himself； ‘I
always wish he had come to me。 I might have made it up between
them； if he had。 Ah！ old John made a great mistake in his way of
acting by that lad—a great mistake。—Have you nearly tied that
sash； my dear？’
What an ill…made sash it was！ There it was； loose again and
trailing on the ground。 Dolly was obliged to kneel down； and
recommence at the beginning。
‘Never mind young Willet； Varden；’ said his wife frowning； ‘you
might find some one more deserving to talk about； I think。’
Miss Miggs gave a great sniff to the same effect。
‘Nay； Martha；’ cried the locksmith； ‘don’t let us bear too hard
upon him。 If the lad is dead indeed； we’ll deal kindly by his
memory。’
‘A runaway and a vagabond！’ said Mrs Varden。
Miss Miggs expressed her concurrence as before。
‘A runaway； my dear； but not a vagabond；’ returned the
locksmith in a gentle tone。 ‘He behaved himself well； did Joe—
always—and was a handsome； manly fellow。 Don’t call him a
vagabond； Martha。’
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Barnaby Rudge 451
Mrs Varden coughed—and so did Miggs。
‘He tried hard to gain your good opinion； Martha； I can tell you；’
said the locksmith smiling； and stroking his chin。 ‘Ah！ that he did。
It seems but yesterday that he followed me out to the Maypole
door one night； and begged me not to say how like a boy they used
him—say here； at home； he meant； though at the time； I recollect； I
didn’t understand。 “And how’s Miss Dolly； sir？” says Joe；’ pursued
the locksmith； musing sorrowfully； ‘Ah！ Poor Joe！’
‘Well； I declare；’ cried Miggs。 ‘Oh！ Goodness gracious me！’
‘What’s the matter now？’ said Gabriel； turning sharply to her；
‘Why； if here an’t Miss Dolly；’ said the handmaid； stooping down to
look into her face； ‘a…giving way to floods of tears。 Oh mim！ oh sir。
Raly it’s give me such a turn；’ cried the susceptible damsel；
pressing her hand upon her side to q