And there are gentlemen in every walk of life just the same as there are the other sort.

And you, Master Jeff, you're one of the gentlemen." Jeff laughed a somewhat grim laugh, and turned to put out the lamp.
"You're a very nice old woman, Granny," he said.

"But you are not an impartial judge." "Ah, my dearie," said Granny Grimshaw, "but I know what women's hearts are made of." A somewhat irrelevant retort, which nevertheless closed the discussion.
They went upstairs together, and parted on the landing.
"And you'll go to bed now, won't you ?" urged Granny Grimshaw.
"All right," said Jeff.
But once in his own room he went to the low lattice-window that overlooked the mill-stream, and stood before it looking gravely forth over the still water.

It was a night of many stars.

Beyond the stream there stretched a dream-valley across which the river mists were trailing.