once--an old
fellow, pinched and wheezy, would sneak in, uncover a mysterious object
wrapped in a square of stringy calico, fumble in his pocket for a scrap
of paper, put his name at the bottom of it, and sneak out again five,
ten, or twenty dollars better off. Once, as late as eleven o'clock, a
fattish gentleman with a hooked nose and a positive dialect, assisted
another stout member of his race to slide a very large object from out
the tail of a cart. Whereupon there had been an interchange of wisps of
paper between Pawson and the fatter of the two men, the late visitors
bowing and smiling until they reached a street lantern where they
divided a roll of bank-notes between them.

And the delight that Pawson and Gadgem took in it all!--assorting,
verifying, checking off--slapping each other's backs in glee when some
doubtful find was made certain, and growing even more excited on the
days when Harry and Kate would drive or ride in from Moorlands--almost
every day of late--tie the horse and carry-all, or both saddle-horses,
to St. George's tree-boxes, and at once buckle on their armor.

This, rendered into common prose, meant that Harry, after a prolonged
consultation with Pawson and Gadgem, would shed his outer coat, the
spring being now far advanced, blossoms out and the weather warm--and
that Kate would tuck her petticoats clear of her dear little feet and
go pattering round, her sleeves rolled up as far as they would go, her
beautiful arms bare almost to her shoulders--her hair smothered in a
brown barege veil to keep out the dust--the most bewitching parlor-maid
you or anybody else ever laid eyes on. Then would follow such a carrying
up of full baskets and carrying down of empty ones; such a spreading of
carpets and rugs; such an arranging of china and glass; such a placing
of andirons, fenders, shovels, tongs, and bellows; hanging of pictures,
curtains, and mirrors--old and new; moving in of sofas, chairs, and
rockers; making up of beds with fluted frills on the pillows--a silk
patchwork quilt on St. George's bed and cotton counterpanes for Jemima
and Todd!

And the secrecy maintained by everybody! Pawson might have been stone
deaf and entirely blind for all the information you could twist out of
him--and a lot of people tried. And as to Gadgem--the dumbest oyster in
Cherrystone Creek was a veritable magpie when it came to his giving the
precise reason why the Temple Mansion was being restored from
top to bottom