"Is that you, Jabez?"

Connected with each other for so many years--a connection which had begun
when both were young--the Rector and Mrs. Ashton had never called him
anything but Jabez. With other people he was Gum, or Mr. Gum, or Clerk
Gum: Jabez with them. He, Jabez, was the older man of the two by six or
seven years, for the Rector was not more than forty-five. The clerk
crossed the hall, its tessellated flags gleaming under the colours
thrown in by the stained windows, and entered the drawing-room, a noble
apartment looking on to the lawn in front. Mrs. Ashton, a tall,
delicate-looking woman, with a gentle face, was standing before a
painting just come home and hung up; to look at which the Rector and
his wife had gone into the room.

It was the portrait of a sweet-looking girl with a sunny countenance. The
features were of the delicate contour of Mrs. Ashton's; the rich brown
hair, the soft brown eyes, and the intellectual expression of the face
resembled the doctor's. Altogether, face and portrait were positively
charming; one of those faces you must love at first sight, without
waiting to question whether or not they are beautiful.

"Is it a good likeness, Jabez?" asked the Rector, whilst Mrs. Ashton made
room for him with a smile of greeting.

"As like as two peas, sir," responded Jabez, when he had taken a long
look. "What a face it is! Oftentimes it comes across my mind when I am
not thinking of anything but business; and I'm always the better for it."

"Why, Jabez, this is the first time you have seen it."