His coffee was
produced, by the special activity of Mr. Tope, a full hour before
he wanted it. Mr. Crisparkle sat with his watch in his hand for
about the same period, lest he should overstay his time. The four
young people were unanimous in believing that the Cathedral clock
struck three-quarters, when it actually struck but one. Miss
Twinkleton estimated the distance to the omnibus at five-and-twenty
minutes' walk, when it was really five. The affectionate kindness
of the whole circle hustled him into his greatcoat, and shoved him
out into the moonlight, as if he were a fugitive traitor with whom
they sympathised, and a troop of horse were at the back door. Mr.
Crisparkle and his new charge, who took him to the omnibus, were so
fervent in their apprehensions of his catching cold, that they shut
him up in it instantly and left him, with still half-an-hour to
spare.
CHAPTER VII - MORE CONFIDENCES THAN ONE
'I KNOW very little of that gentleman, sir,' said Neville to the
Minor Canon as they turned back.
'You know very little of your guardian?' the Minor Canon repeated.
'Almost nothing!'
'How came he - '
'To BE my guardian? I'll tell you, sir. I suppose you know that
we come (my sister and I) from Ceylon?'
'Indeed, no.'
'I wonder at that. We lived with a stepfather there. Our mother
died there, when we were little children. We have had a wretched
existence. She made him our guardian, and he was a miserly wretch
who grudged us food to eat, and clothes to wear.
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