To them after a decent interval appeared Thomas in resplendent waistcoat of Sunday and with nose polished to the limit of a nose's power of brightness.
"Is your mistress within?" inquired the Major.
"Within and awaiting you," said solemn Mr. Thomas.
"Then I think, Mr. Moon," said the Major with half a turn, "we will step inside immediately."
"I think we may venture," replied the latter.
They were ushered into the passage where Thomas received their hats and canes. Thomas had such a sober effect on his fellow men that the slightest action in which he took part was conducted with a ritual at once austere and grand. One felt that the delivery of a hat, smallsword, cane, or message possessed at least the dignity, the entire absence of all worldly considerations that belong to the Sunday alms.
"Will your mistress receive us in the front parlour or the back parlour this morning?" inquired Tarry whose legs were prepared for either emergency.
"In the front parlour," said Thomas. "Miss Thomasina was ill this morning."
"In the back parlour, I presume?" said Moon.
"Very ill with retching and divers pains," continued Thomas.