In the meantime great preparations were going on down in Suffolk for the marriage of that happiest of lovers, John Crumb¹. John Crumb had been up to London, had been formally reconciled to Ruby² — who had submitted to his floury embraces, not with the best grace in the world, but still with a submission³ that had satisfied her future husband — had been intensely grateful to Mrs Hurtle, and almost munificent⁴ in liberality to Mrs Pipkin, to whom he presented a purple silk dress, in addition to the cloak which he had given on a former occasion. During this visit he had expressed no anger against Ruby, and no indignation in reference to the baronite. When informed by Mrs Pipkin, who hoped thereby⁵ to please him, that Sir Felix was supposed to be still ‘all one mash⁶ of gore,’ he blandly⁷ smiled, remarking that no man could be much worse for a ‘few sich taps as them.’ He only stayed a few hours in London, but during these few hours he settled everything. When Mrs Pipkin suggested that Ruby should be married from her house, he winked⁸ his eye as he declined the suggestion with thanks. Daniel Ruggles was old, and, under the influence of continued gin and water, was becoming feeble. John Crumb was of opinion that the old man should not be neglected, and hinted that with a little care the five hundred pounds which had originally been promised as Ruby’s fortune, might at any rate be secured. He was of opinion that the marriage should be celebrated⁹ in Suffolk — the feast being spread at Sheep’s Acre farm, if Dan Ruggles could be talked into giving it — and if not, at his own house. When both the ladies explained to him that this last proposition was not in strict accordance with the habits of the fashionable world, John expressed an opinion that, under the

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