II.

Upon the lawn he espied Mr. Marrapit and his Mary. She, on a garden seat, was reading aloud from the _Times_; Mr. Marrapit, on a deep chair stretched to make lap for the Rose of Sharon, sat a little in advance of her.

George approached from Mr. Marrapit's flank; soft turf muffled his strides. The warm glow of kindliness towards all the world, which his success had stoked burning within him, put a foreign word upon his tongue. He sped it on a boisterous note:

“Uncle!” he cried. “Uncle, I've passed!”

Mary crushed the _Times_ between her hands; bounded to her feet. “Oh!” she cried. “Hip! hur--!”

She bit the final exclamation; dropped to her seat. Mr. Marrapit had twisted his eye upon her.

“You are in pain?” he asked.

“No--oh, no.”

“You have a pang in the hip?”

“Oh no--no.”

“But you bounded. You cried 'hip'! Whose hip?”

“I was startled.”

“Unsatisfactory. The brain, not the hip, is the seat of the emotion. Elucidate.”

“I don't know why I said 'hip.' I was startled. Mr. George startled me.”

“Me also he startled. I did not shout hip, thigh, leg nor knee. Control the tongue.”

He turned to George. “Miss Humfray's extraordinary remark has projected this dilatory reception of your news. I beg you repeat it.”

Sprayed upon between mortification and laughter at the manner of his greeting, George's enthusiasm was a little damped. But its flame was too fierce to be hurt by a shower. Now it roared again. “I've passed!” he cried. “I'm qualified!”

“I tender my felicitations. Accept them. Leave us, Miss Humfray. This is a mighty hour. Take the Rose. Give her cream. Let her with us rejoice.”

Mary raised the cat. She faced about so that she directly shut Mr. Marrapit from his nephew; with her dancing eyes spoke her happiness to her George; passed down the lawn.