"He's suffering from life-long repression," the Doctor told his wife. "Now he's got to find a safety-valve."
In his own mind Mr. Trupp had no doubt as to the form the safety-valve would take.
About that time Mrs. Trupp, meeting Mr. Pigott in the Moot, asked him how his new hand was getting on.
"Working steady as Old Time," replied the other with satisfaction.
"I like the look upon his face," Mrs. Trupp remarked. "He's always expecting."
"Yes," replied the old school-master, "expecting angels—like his father."
"Perhaps he'll find them," smiled Mrs. Trupp.
That evening, as it chanced, she met her godson under the elms in Saffrons Croft, and stopped him.
It was May now. The hope illuminating air and sky and every living thing was reflected in Ernie's face. Indeed the young man looked inspired.
The two regarded each other affectionately.