his bold way, though some people did disparage him to his poor mother. I ask your pardon for troubling you, sir. God bless you, gentlemen!”
“Same to you, ma’am!” returns Mr. Bagnet with right good will.
There is something very touching in the earnestness of the old lady’s voice and in the tremble that goes through her quaint old figure. But Mr. George is so occupied with the almanac over the fireplace (calculating the coming months by it perhaps) that he does not look round until she has gone away and the door is closed upon her.
“George,” Mr. Bagnet gruffly whispers when he does turn from the almanac at last. “Don’t be cast down! ‘Why, soldiers, why—should we be melancholy, boys?’ Cheer up, my hearty!”
The clerk having now again gone in to say that they are still there and Mr. Tulkinghorn being heard to return with some irascibility, “Let ’em come in then!” they pass into the great room with the painted ceiling and find him standing before the fire.