"We waited for you till the last moment; we should have been too late
if we had stayed an instant longer, and I made sure you would come
directly."
"Ticket--what ticket? I saw no ticket?"
"We left it on the mantelpiece, and there was a message with it."
His face brightened, but he said nothing. A rush of blood rose to
his head; he moved towards her and kissed her.
"What a wretch you must have thought me!" she said half laughingly,
as she instantly smoothed her hair again, which he had ruffled. "But
what has become of the ticket?"
"Fell in the fire most likely; the window was open when I came in,
and the draught blew the picture over the mantelpiece nearly off its
hook."
The breakfast was the happiest meal they had had for months.
Zachariah did his best to overcome his natural indisposition to talk.
Except when he was very much excited, he always found conversation
with his wife too difficult on any save the most commonplace topics,
although he was eloquent enough in company which suited him. She
listened to him, recalling with great pleasure the events of the
preceding evening. She was even affectionate--affectionate for her--
and playfully patted his shoulder as he went out, warning him not to
be so late again.
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