CHAPTER VII SOMETHING ELSE HAPPENS Mr. Dering lay back in his chair, gazing at the door--the unromantic office door--through which Elsie had just passed. I suppose that even the driest of old bachelors and lawyers may be touched by the sight of a young girl made suddenly and unexpectedly happy. Perhaps the mere apparition of a lovely girl, dainty and delicate and sweet, daintily and delicately apparelled, so as to look like a goddess or a wood-nymph rather than a creature of clay, may have awakened old and long-forgotten thoughts before the instincts of youth were stifled by piles of parchment. It is the peculiar and undisputed privilege of the historian to read thoughts, but it is not always necessary to write them down. He sat up and sighed. 'I have not told her all,' he murmured. 'She shall be happier still.' He touched his hand-bell. 'Checkley,' he said, 'ask Mr. Austin kindly to step this way.--A day of surprise--of joyful surprise--for both.' It was indeed to be a day of good fortune, as you shall see. He opened a drawer and took out a document rolled and tied, which he laid upon the table before him. George obeyed the summons, not without misgiving, for Elsie, he knew, must by this time have had the dreaded interview, and the call might have some reference to his own share in the great contumacy. To incur the displeasure of his employer in connection with that event might lead to serious consequences. Astonishing thing! Mr. Dering received him with a countenance that seemed transformed. He smiled benevolently upon him. He even laughed. He smiled when George opened the door: he laughed when, in obedience to a gesture of invitation, George took a chair. He actually laughed: not weakly or foolishly, but as a strong man laughs. 'I want ten minutes with you, George Austin'--he actually used the Christian name--'ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, or perhaps half an hour.' He laughed again. 'Now, then'--his face assumed its usual judicial expression, but his lips broke into unaccustomed smiles--'Now then, sir, I have just seen my ward--my former ward, for she is now of age--and have heard--well--everything there was to hear.' 'I have no doubt, sir, that what you heard from Elsie was the exact truth.' 'I believe so. The questions which I put to her I also put to you. How do you propose to live? On your salary? You have been engaged to my late ward without asking the permission of her guardians--that is, her mother and myself.' 'That is not quite the case. We found that her mother opposed the engagement, and therefore it was not necessary to ask your permission. We agreed to let the matter rest until she should be of age. Meanwhile, we openly corresponded and saw each other.'