She looked at his face, at the effect in it of these prospects, and her own lighted as if he had suddenly grown handsome. "Certainly--we shall live as in a fairy-tale. But what I mean is that we shall give, in a way--and so gladly--quite as much as we get. With all the rest of it we're for instance neat." Their letter had come to them at breakfast, and she picked a fly out of the butter-dish. "It's the way we'll _keep_ the place"--with which she removed from the sofa to the top of the cottage-piano a tin of biscuits that had refused to squeeze into the cupboard. At Blackport they were in lodgings--of the lowest description, she had been known to declare with a freedom felt by Blackport to be slightly invidious. The Birthplace--and that itself, after such a life, was exaltation--wouldn't be lodgings, since a house close beside it was set apart for the warden, a house joining on to it as a sweet old parsonage is often annexed to a quaint old church. It would all together be their home, and such a home as would make a little world that they would never want to leave. She dwelt on the gain, for that matter, to their income; as obviously, though the salary was not a change for the better, the house given them would make all the difference. He assented to this, but absently, and she was almost impatient at the range of his thoughts. It was as if something for him--the very swarm of them--veiled the view; and he presently of himself showed what it was. "What I can't get over is its being such a man--!" He almost, from inward emotion, broke down. "Such a man----?" "Him, _him_, HIM----!" It was too much. "Grant-Jackson? Yes, it's a surprise, but one sees how he has been meaning, all the while, the right thing by us." "I mean _Him_," Gedge returned more coldly; "our becoming familiar and intimate--for that's what it will come to. We shall just live with Him." "Of course--it _is_ the beauty." And she added quite gaily: "The more we do the more we shall love Him." "No doubt--but it's rather awful. The more we _know_ Him," Gedge reflected, "the more we shall love Him. We don't as yet, you see, know Him so very tremendously." "We do so quite as well, I imagine, as the sort of people they've had. And that probably isn't--unless you care, as we do--so awfully necessary. For there are the facts." "Yes--there are the facts." "I mean the principal ones. They're all that the people--the people who come--want." "Yes--they must be all _they_ want." "So that they're all that those who've been in charge have needed to know." "Ah," he said as if it were a question of honour, "we must know everything." She cheerfully acceded: she had the merit, he felt, of keeping the case within bounds. "Everything. But about him personally," she added, "there isn't, is there? so very very much." "More, I believe, than there used to be. They've made discoveries." It was a grand thought. "Perhaps _we_ shall make some!"