Oh , truthful Cricket ! Oh , perfidious wife ! He saw her with the old man -- old no longer , but erect and gallant -- bearing in his hand the false white hair that had won his way into their desolate and miserable home . He saw her listening to him , as he bent his head to whisper in her ear ; and suffering him to clasp her round the waist , as they moved slowly down the dim wooden gallery towards the door by which they had entered it . He saw them stop , and saw her turn -- to have the face , the face he loved so , so presented to his view ! -- and saw her , with her own hands , adjust the lie upon his head , laughing , as she did it , at his unsuspicious nature ! He clenched his strong right hand at first , as if it would have beaten down a lion . But , opening it immediately again , he spread it out before the eyes of Tackleton -LRB- for he was tender of her even then -RRB- , and so , as they passed out , fell down upon a desk , and was as weak as any infant . He was wrapped up to the chin , and busy with his horse and parcels , when she came into the room , prepared for going home . `` Now , John dear ! Good night , May ! Good night , Bertha ! '' Could she kiss them ? Could she be blithe and cheerful in her parting ? Could she venture to reveal her face to them without a blush ? Yes . Tackleton observed her closely , and she did all this . Tilly was hushing the baby , and she crossed and recrossed Tackleton a dozen times , repeating drowsily : `` Did the knowledge that it was to be its wives , then , wring its hearts almost to breaking ; and did its fathers deceive it from its cradles but to break its hearts at last ! '' `` Now , Tilly , give me the Baby ! Good night , Mr. Tackleton .
Where 's John , XXXXX goodness ' sake ? ''
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