But when the Major had looked for a moment on the tall figure in black, which advanced towards the fire, instead of saying, "Sir, I am, highly honoured by your visit," or, "Sir, I bid you most heartily welcome," he dashed forward in the most undignified fashion, upsetting a chair, and seizing the reverend Dean by both hands, exclaimed, "God bless my heart and soul! Frank Maberly!" It was he: the mad curate, now grown into a colonial dean,--sobered, apparently, but unchanged in any material point: still elastic and upright, looking as if for twopence he would take off the black cutaway coat and the broad-brimmed hat, and row seven in the University eight, at a moment's notice.

There seems something the matter with him though, as he holds the Major's two hands in his, and looks on his broad handsome face.

Something like a shortness of breath prevented his speech, and, strange, the Major seems troubled with the same complaint; but Frank gets over it first, and says,-- "My dear old friend, I am so glad to see you!" And Mrs.Buckley says, laying her hand upon his arm, "It seems as if all things were arranged to make my husband and myself the happiest couple in the world.

If we had been asked to-night, whom of all people in the world we should have been most glad to see as the new Dean, we should have answered at once, Frank Maberly; and here he is!" "Then, you did not know whom to expect," said Frank.
"Not we, indeed," said the Major.

"Desborough said the new Dean was a Doctor Maypole; and I pictured to myself an old schoolmaster with a birch rod in his coat tail-pocket.