“You haven’t looked at baby, mother dear,” said Jennie.
“Oh! so I haven’t! How could I forget!” exclaimed the young grandmother; and down went cloak and hat, disregarded, on the floor, while she turned to look for the little queen who was destined to ascend the throne of the household.
Mr. Campbell, smiling at this impetuosity, placed the infant in her arms.
And then—but I will spare my readers the rhapsodies that ensued.
Meanwhile, everything else was forgotten.
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.