'You talk as if she had been asleep all night, instead of little more than half an hour.

But I'm very thankful.

Sleep's a blessing--no doubt about it.' The last few words he muttered to himself.
'How cruel of you to keep us up so late this morning, and never tell us where you were, or send us word!' said the girl.
'Ah Dolly, Dolly!' returned the locksmith, shaking his head, and smiling, 'how cruel of you to run upstairs to bed! Come down to breakfast, madcap, and come down lightly, or you'll wake your mother.
She must be tired, I am sure--I am.' Keeping these latter words to himself, and returning his daughter's nod, he was passing into the workshop, with the smile she had awakened still beaming on his face, when he just caught sight of his 'prentice's brown paper cap ducking down to avoid observation, and shrinking from the window back to its former place, which the wearer no sooner reached than he began to hammer lustily.
'Listening again, Simon!' said Gabriel to himself.

'That's bad.

What in the name of wonder does he expect the girl to say, that I always catch him listening when SHE speaks, and never at any other time! A bad habit, Sim, a sneaking, underhanded way.