Oh, I am miserable.

Gully! Gully! Come to me," and then there were sounds of troubled footsteps pacing to and fro and of a woman's grief.
That was more than I could stand.

I flung the door open, and, dirty, dishevelled, with unsteady steps, advanced into the room.
"Ahem!" coughed Mrs.Brown, "just as I expected!" But I had no eyes for her.

"Polly! Polly!" I cried, and that dear girl, after a startled scream and a glance to make sure it was indeed the recovered prodigal, rushed over and threw all her weight of dear, warm, comfortable womanhood into my arms, and the moment after burst into a passion of happy tears down my collar.
"Humph!" quoth the landlady, "that is not what BROWN gets when he forgets his self.

No, not by any means." But she was a good old soul at heart, and, seeing how matters stood, with a parting glance of scorn in my direction and a toss of her head, went out of the room, and closed the door behind her.
Need I tell in detail what followed?
Polly behaved like an angel, and when in answer to her gentle reproaches I told her the outlines of my marvellous story she almost believed me! Over there on the writing-desk lay a whole row of the unopened letters she had showered upon me during my absence, and amongst them an official one.