7. The worthy carpenter was restored to instant good humour by a glance from his helpmate; and, notwithstanding the infliction he had just endured, he would have quarrelled with any one who had endeavoured to persuade him that he was not the happiest of men, and Mrs. ’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. “Do you know, I have been wondering what had become of you,” she said.
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