Here they were soon afterwards joined by Walter, who told them Florence was a little sorrowful and heavy-hearted, and had gone to bed. Though they could not have disturbed her with their voices down there, they all spoke in a whisper after this: and each, in his different way, felt very lovingly and gently towards Walter’s fair young bride: and a long explanation there was of everything relating to her, for the satisfaction of Uncle Sol; and very sensible Mr. Toots was of the delicacy with which Walter made his name and services important, and his presence necessary to their little council.
"Mr. Toots," said Walter, on parting with him at the house door, "we shall see each other to-morrow morning?"
"Lieutenant Walters," returned Mr. Toots, grasping his hand fervently, "I shall certainly be present."
"This is the last night we shall meet for a long time—the last night we may ever meet," said Walter. "Such a noble heart as yours, must feel, I think, when another heart is bound to it. I hope you know that I am very grateful to you?"
"Walters," replied Mr. Toots, quite touched, "I should be glad to feel that you had reason to be so."
"Florence," said Walter, "on this last night of her bearing her own name, has made me promise—it was only just now, when you left us together—that I would tell you—with her dear love—"
Mr. Toots laid his hand upon the doorpost, and his eyes upon his hand.
—"with her dear love," said Walter, "that she can never have a friend whom she will value above you. That the recollection of your true consideration for her always, can never be forgotten by her. That she remembers you in her prayers to-night, and hopes that you will think of her when she is far away. Shall I say anything for you?"
"Say, Walter," replied Mr. Toots indistinctly, "that I shall think of her every day, but never without feeling happy to know that she is married to the man she loves, and who loves her. Say, if you please, that I am sure her husband deserves her—even her!—and that I am glad of her choice."
Mr. Toots got more distinct as he came to these last words, and raising his eyes from the doorpost, said them stoutly. He then shook Walter’s hand again with a fervour that Walter was not slow to return and started homeward.
Mr. Toots was accompanied by the Chicken, whom he had of late brought with him every evening, and left in the shop, with an idea that unforeseen circumstances might arise from without, in which the prowess of that distinguished character would be of service to the Midshipman. The Chicken did not appear to be in a particularly good humour on this occasion. Either the gas-lamps were treacherous, or he cocked his eye in a hideous manner, and likewise distorted his nose, when Mr. Toots, crossing the road, looked back over his shoulder at the room where Florence slept. On the road home, he was more demonstrative of aggressive intentions against the other foot passengers, than comported with a professor of the peaceful art of self-defence. Arrived at home, instead of leaving Mr. Toots in his apartments when he had escorted him thither, he remained before him weighing his white hat in both hands by the brim, and twitching his head and nose (both of which had been many times broken, and but indifferently repaired), with an air of decided disrespect.
