should be no more annoyed. It was therefore that she felt as if a weight had been removed from her heart, and became joyous. Nor was the pleasure derived therefrom transient. She was joyous throughout the day, and at night, when the village clock struck ten, she went to the window with a smile.
The reverend gentleman was punctual—that is to say, as punctual as reverend gentlemen are in general: he was ten minutes behind—ten minutes being always allowed to the cloth; and when he appeared at the gate, with the gentle Jones, Sylvester quietly opened the door.
Jones had been instructed to make no noise. He, therefore, made none. As he entered, he walked on the tips of his toes: not elegantly—no, by no means—but carefully, and ground his teeth to indicate the interest he felt in the due preservation of silence.
"My dear sir," whispered Aunt Eleanor, as her reverend friend took her hand, "I really feel so grateful—"
"Not a word, my dear madam, not a word," he replied. "We entered, I believe, unobserved?"
"I think so: I saw no one near."
"Are the servants in bed?"
"They will not go until I retire."
"Very good. Then retire, my dear madam, and leave all to me. I'll lock the door after you, in order that, if it be tried, it may appear that you locked it. I shall catch them, never fear. I only want to know who they are: I only want to see them: there isn't a man in the village whom I shouldn't be able to recognise at a glance."
"Be sure," said Aunt Eleanor, "that you do not expose yourself to danger. I am almost ashamed to leave you; but do make yourself quite at home. You will find some hot water in the kettle, and—let me seeyes, this is cold. Do make a good supper. The sugar and the lemons are on the sideboard, with the nutmegs, and—"
"Really, my dear madam, all this was unnecessary; but as it shows your kind consideration, I appreciate it."
"Well but do make yourself, now, as comfortable as possible."
"I will do so."
"You had better let me sit up with you now," said Sylvester.
"No, my dear fellow, no: that might spoil all. Good night: good night. God bless you: good night!"
Aunt Eleanor and Sylvester then withdrew, and their reverend friend, having locked the door, sat down to contemplate the supper before him, while Jones, in the corner, stood scratching his head, with great constitutional freedom.
It was a very nice supper: very nice indeed: cold, but delicious: unique, but enough. The reverend gentleman eyed it with pleasure; he then eyed the brandy, wine, whiskey, and rum; he, moreover, looked at the books—very good: they were very good books; but—very good.
"Jones," said he, "you and I are fixed here for the night. Now, sir, repudiating all considerations having reference to station, I invite you to sup with me this evening."
