A quarter of an hour elapsed--then twenty minutes.

The hand moved on, and the clock pointed to five minutes to eight, before I heard the study door open, and before the sound of rapidly-advancing footsteps warned me that George was coming into the room.
His beaming face told the good news before a word could be spoken on either side.

The excess of his happiness literally and truly deprived him of speech.

He stood eagerly looking at us all three, with outstretched hands and glistening eyes.
"Have I folded up my surplice forever," asked Owen, "or am I to wear it once again, George, in your service ?" "Answer this question first," interposed Morgan, with a look of grim anxiety.

"Have you actually taken your young woman off my hands, or have you not ?" No direct answer followed either question.