"It was his own choice," interrupted Kate, and she began speaking of the weather.
Five struck; I stole out of the room, went to the garden, and opening the door, stood on the threshold to watch for Cornelius. I soon saw him, and ran out to meet him.
"Mr. Trim is come," I said.
"Is he?" was the careless reply.
"And Mr. Smalley, too."
Cornelius uttered a joyful exclamation, and hastened in, leaving me the door to close. The greeting of the two friends was not over when I entered the parlour. They stood in a proximity that rendered more apparent Mr. Smalley's feminine slenderness as contrasted with the erect and decided bearing of Cornelius, who, although much younger, had, as if by the intuitive remembrance of their old relation of protector and protected, laid his hand on the shoulder of his former school-fellow, looking down at him with a pleased smile.
"Don't you think he's grown?" asked Mr. Trim.
"More than you," was the short reply.
"How much you are altered!" said Mr. Smalley, surveying his friend with evident admiration.
"And so are you," replied Cornelius, glancing at his clerical attire: "I congratulate you."