speechless gratitude; but Kit had unfurled the umbrella proudly, and
sat like a queen in a silken tent.

"Ain't he a gentleman!" she exclaimed with a joyous chuckle; "seems
to me the angels must be his sort. Wasn't he just splendid, dad!"
But Caleb, who was trundling the perambulator down a side street,
only shook his head in silence.

Malcolm felt a warm glow of exhilaration, which secretly moved him
to astonishment, as he ran lightly up the long bare flights of
stairs to his chambers. "A mere trifle like that," he said to
himself contemptuously, as he entered the outer room, where a small
and exceedingly sharp office boy, rejoicing in the euphonious name
of Malachi Murphy, beguiled the tedium of the waiting hours by
cutting the initials of his family on the legs of the table.

When Malcolm wanted to amuse a friendly visitor, he would question
Malachi blandly and innocently on his brothers' and sisters' names.

"You are all minor prophets," he would say carelessly. "I think Mr.
So-and-So would be interested to hear how you came by these names."
And thus encouraged, Malachi would twist his face knowingly, until
it resembled a gargoyle rather than a human face, and start away as
though he had been wound up afresh.

"Well, it was like this, sir. Father was just reading Hosea on
Sunday evening, when mother took bad, and so they made up their
minds that they would call my eldest brother Hosea; the next one was
Joel, because father liked the name; and by-and-by mother put in her
word for Amos. Obadiah only lived five weeks; and the next was a