"And I'll help finish the tarts," said Grace, cheerfully.

"I don't know about that," said her father. "'Tisn't quite so much in

your line as it is in your mother-law's and mine."

"Of course I couldn't let you, Grace!" said Giles, with some distress.

"I'll do it, of course," said Mrs. Melbury, taking off her silk train,

hanging it up to a nail, carefully rolling back her sleeves, pinning

them to her shoulders, and stripping Giles of his apron for her own use.

So Grace pottered idly about, while her father and his wife helped on

the preparations. A kindly pity of his household management, which

Winterborne saw in her eyes whenever he caught them, depressed him much

Advertisement..

more than her contempt would have done.

Creedle met Giles at the pump after a while, when each of the others

was absorbed in the difficulties of a cuisine based on utensils,

cupboards, and provisions that were strange to them. He groaned to the

young man in a whisper, "This is a bruckle het, maister, I'm much

afeared! Who'd ha' thought they'd ha' come so soon?"

The bitter placidity of Winterborne's look adumbrated the misgivings he

did not care to express. "Have you got the celery ready?" he asked,

quickly.

"Now that's a thing I never could mind; no, not if you'd paid me in

silver and gold. And I don't care who the man is, I says that a stick

of celery that isn't scrubbed with the scrubbing-brush is not clean."

"Very well, very well! I'll attend to it. You go and get 'em

comfortable in-doors."

He hastened to the garden, and soon returned, tossing the stalks to

Creedle, who was still in a tragic mood. "If ye'd ha' married, d'ye

see, maister," he said, "this caddle couldn't have happened to us."

Everything being at last under way, the oven set, and all done that

could insure the supper turning up ready at some time or other, Giles

and his friends entered the parlor, where the Melburys again dropped

into position as guests, though the room was not nearly so warm and

cheerful as the blazing bakehouse. Others now arrived, among them

Farmer Bawtree and the hollow-turner, and tea went off very well.

Grace's disposition to make the best of everything, and to wink at

deficiencies in Winterborne's menage, was so uniform and persistent

that he suspected her of seeing even more deficiencies than he was

aware of. That suppressed sympathy which had showed in her face ever

since her arrival told him as much too plainly.




Most Popular