nestling beautiful in the red heart of the flower. Only ten weeks ago he had been no more than the shabbiest of improvers and shamefully dismissed for dissipation, the mere soil-burned seed, as it were, of these glories. He resolved the engagement ring should be of expressively excessive quality and appearance, in fact, the very best they had.
"Ought I to send 'er flowers?" he speculated.
"Not necessarily," said Coote. "Though, of course, it's an attention." …
Kipps meditated on flowers.
"When you see her," said Coote, "you'll have to ask her to name the day."
Kipps started. "That won't be just yet a bit, will it?"
"Don't know any reason for delay."
"Oo, but—a year, say."
"Rather a long time," said Coote.
"Is it?" said Kipps, turning his head sharply. "But"
There was quite a long pause.
"I say," he said, at last, and in an unaltered voice, "you'll 'ave to 'elp me about the wedding."
"Only too happy," said Coote.
"Of course," said Kipps, "I didn't think" He changed his line of thought. "Coote," he asked, "wot's a 'state-eh-tate'?"
"A 'tate-ah-tay'!" said Coote, improvingly, "is a conversation alone together."
"Lor'!" said Kipps, "but I thought. It says
