But Nahum, the driver, remembered he had to collect his fare, and so “made bold” to walk into the curate’s house, and stand, hat in hand, at the parlor door. As he stood in the full glare of the light, he appeared a little, sturdy, muscular man, with a strange mixture of complexion; for while his skin was swarthy and his short hair, stubby beard and heavy eyebrows were as black as jet, his eyes were light blue. But the most characteristic feature in his remarkable face was his nose, which was large and turned up so that his nostrils described a semicircle upward. It was a “mocking nose,” of the most distinct type. He wore a suit of coarse blue tweed, and carried a battered felt hat. “Well, Nahum!” exclaimed the curate on catching sight of him. “Please, your reverence, it is eight shillings, sir.” “Oh! Ah! Yes!” said the curate. And the price was paid and the driver dismissed. Esther Campbell and her recovered daughter were now seated close together on the crimson sofa, which was drawn up on one side of the blazing fire. Esther had her grandchild on her lap and her right arm around Jennie’s waist, while Jennie’s head rested on her shoulder. “Come, Hetty, my love, we want our tea,” said the curate. Mrs. Campbell put the baby in its mother’s arms and rang the bell. A Yorkshire woman of middle age, dressed in a blue cheviot cloth skirt and a gay striped sack of many colors, came in with the tea urn and put it on the table. She was a stranger to Jennie, but she courtesied to the “master’s” daughter, who returned her greeting with a smile and bow. “Where is our old servant, mamma?” inquired Jennie when the new one had left the room. “Oh, Julia? She married the greengrocer and left us just before we left Medge.” “Why, Julia was forty years old at least!” “Yes, dear, and the greengrocer was a widower of fifty with all his children grown up, married and settled.” “A good match for Julia, then!” “Excellent.” The Yorkshire woman re-entered the room, bringing in a tray on which was arranged hot muffins, dried toast, broiled chicken and fried ham, all of which she placed on the table. “This is our daughter, Mrs. Montgomery, whom we have been expecting to see for so long a time, Elspeth,” said Mrs. Campbell, speaking from her own genial nature and overflowing happiness. Elspeth courtesied again and smiled, but said nothing; she was rather shy. She took the baby, however, when the curate and his wife and daughter sat down to the table.