Gadgem got as far as the hall and looked in, and, seeing all the great people thronging about St.
George, would have sneaked out again to await some more favorable occasion had not Harry's sharp eyes discovered the top of his scraggly head over the shoulders of some others, and darted towards him, and when he couldn't be made to budge, had beckoned to St.George, who came on a run and shook Gadgem's hand so heartily and thanked him in so loud a voice--( everybody in the hall heard him)--that he could only sputter--"Didn't do a thing, sir--no, sir--and if I--" and then, overwhelmed, shot out of the door and down the steps and into Pawson's office where he stood panting, saying to himself--"I'll be tuckered if I ain't happier than I--yes--by Jingo, I am.

JIMminy-CRIMminy what a man he is!" And so the day passed and the night came and the neighbors took their leave, and Harry escorted Kate back to Seymours' and the tired knocker gave out and fell asleep, and at last Todd said good-night and stole down to Jemima, and St.George found himself once more in his easy chair, his head in his hand, his eyes fixed on the dead coals of a past fire.
As the echo of Todd's steps faded away and he began to realize that he was alone, there crept over him for the first time in years the comforting sense that he was once more under his own roof--his again and all that it covered--all that he loved; even his beloved dogs.

He left his chair and with a quick indrawing of his breath, as if he had just sniffed the air from some open sea, stretched himself to his full height.

There he stood looking about him, his shapely fingers patting his chest; his eyes wandering over the room, first with a sweeping glance, and then resting on each separate object as it nodded to him under the glow of the candles.
He had come into his possessions once more.

Not that the very belongings made so much difference as his sense of pride in their ownership.