In the middle of the court was a pump, and all about the flagged stones pigeons were delicately walking.

As they drove up, the pigeons rose in a wheeling flight against the sky now staining faintly with amber; dogs rushed barking from the barns; a haycart turned the comer, its wheels creaking, and four little children perched high on the top of the hay.

Then the hall-door opened, and behold Mrs.Monk, Mr.Monk, and, clustering shyly behind, the little Monks.
In the scene that followed Jeremy was forgotten.

He did not know what it was that made him hang behind the others, but he stood beside the wagonette, bent down and released Hamlet, and then waited, hiding under the shadow of the cart.

His happiness was almost intolerable; he could not speak, he could not move, and in the heart of his happiness there was a strange unhappiness that he had never known before.