They found themselves.
He did and said so little. But he possessed the unique quality of a
Leader--natural persuasion.
Thompson, for instance, cleaning the silver at the pantry window,
looked up and saw them pass. They caught him unawares. His pompous
manner hung like a discarded mask on a nail beside his livery. He wore
his black and white striped waistcoat, and an apron. Of course he
looked proper, as an old family servant ought to look, but he looked
cheerful too. He was humming to himself as he polished up the covers
and the candelabra.
"Well, I never!" he exclaimed, as the line of them filed by. "I never
did. And Mr. Weeden with 'em too!"
The Tramp passed singing and looked through the open window at the
butler. No more than that. Their eyes met between the bars. They
exchanged glances. But something incalculable happened in that
instant, just as it had happened to Stumper, Aunt Emily, and the rest
of them. Thompson put several questions into his look of sheer
astonishment.
"Why not?" the Tramp replied, chuckling as he caught the butler's eye.
"It's a lovely morning. We're just looking!"
Thompson was flabbergasted--as if all the old-fashioned families of
the world had suddenly praised him.
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