While the maid, foolishly giggling, had got possession of the baby, and was talking more affectionate nonsense to it than ever baby heard in this world before.
Mary held out her hand to him, and when he gave her his vast brown paw, what does she do, but put it to her lips and kiss it ?--as if there was not enough without that.

And, to make matters worse, she quoted Scripture, and said, "Forasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me." So our good Doctor had nothing left but to break through that cloak of cynicism which he delighted to wear, (Lord knows why!) and to kiss her on the cheek, and to tell her how happy she had made them by coming back, let circumstances be what they might.
Then she told them, with bursts of wild weeping, what those circumstances were.

And at last, when they were all quieted, Miss Thornton boldly volunteered to go up and tell the Vicar that his darling was returned.
So she went up, and Mary and the Doctor waited at the bed-room door and listened.

The poor old man was far gone beyond feeling joy or grief to any great extent.

When Miss Thornton raised him in his bed, and told him that he must brace up his nerves to hear some good news, he smiled a weary smile, and Mary looking in saw that he was so altered that she hardly knew him.
"I know," he said, lisping and hesitating painfully, "what you are going to tell me, sister.