An old woman, who stood without clutching the palings of the gate, saw Bressant open the door and pass inward, and the sunshine entered with him.  The door was left ajar—­might she not enter too?  Just then, a little ormolu clock, on the mantel-piece inside, gave a preliminary whirr, and hastily struck the hour of noon.  As if in answer to a signal, the sun smiled broadly forth, and quite transfigured the weather-beaten old Parsonage.