KIPPS
"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 taime," 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 altered 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 'tate-eh-tate'?"
"A 'tate-ah-tay'!" said Coote, improvingly, "is a conversation alone together."
"Lor'!" said Kipps, "but I thought— It says strictly we oughtn't to enjoy a tater-tay, not sit together, walk together, ride together or meet during any part of the day. That don't leave much time for meeting, does it?"
"The book says that?" asked Coote.
"I jest learned it by 'eart before you came. I thought that was a bit rum, but I s'pose it's all right."
"You won't find Mrs. Walshingham so strict as all
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