"She cries when she's tickled, an' she laughs when she's mad." "I'm not mad," said the little woman, bursting into a laugh, and lifting her tear-burdened eyes to Jim.
"An' then," said Jim, "she cries and laughs all to oncet, an'a feller don't know whether to take off his jacket or put up his umberell." This quite restored the "little woman," and her eyes were dry and merry as the boat touched the bank, and the two women were helped on shore.
Before the other boats came up, they were in the house, with the delighted Turk at their heels, and Mike Conlin's wife courtseying before them.
It was a merry night at Number Nine.

Jim's wife became the mistress at once.

She knew where everything was to be found, as well as if she had been there for a year, and played the hostess to Mr.and Mrs.Balfour as agreeably as if her life had been devoted to the duties of her establishment.
Mr.Balfour could not make a long stay in the woods, but had determined to leave his wife there with the boys.

His business was pressing at home, and he had heard something while at Sevenoaks that made him uneasy on Mr.Benedict's account.

The latter had kept himself very quiet while at the wedding, but his intimacy with one of Mr.Balfour's boys had been observed, and there were those who detected the likeness of this boy, though much changed by growth and better conditions, to the little Harry Benedict of other days.