"Nothing more?"

"Nothing more."

He looked at the writing for a minute or two, dried it carefully by
the fire, replaced the book in its two cases, and put it into his
pocket. He said no other word but "Thank you," and I asked him no
questions.

This was all I ever heard of the boy's parentage: nor do I believe
he knew more himself. He was indebted to no forefathers for a family
history: the chronicle commenced with himself, and was altogether
his own making. No romantic antecedents ever turned up: his lineage
remained uninvestigated, and his pedigree began and ended with his
own honest name--John Halifax.

Jael kept coming in and out of the parlour on divers excuses, eyeing
very suspiciously John Halifax and me; especially when she heard me
laughing--a rare and notable fact--for mirth was not the fashion in
our house, nor the tendency of my own nature. Now this young lad,
hardly as the world had knocked him about even already, had an
overflowing spirit of quiet drollery and healthy humour, which was to
me an inexpressible relief. It gave me something I did not possess--
something entirely new. I could not look at the dancing brown eyes,
at the quaint dimples of lurking fun that played hide-and-seek under
the firm-set mouth, without feeling my heart cheered and delighted,
like one brought out of a murky chamber into the open day.

But all this was highly objectionable to Jael.