hich spoke volumes.

The meeting waited a minute or two, and then quietly rose and dispersed,
every one feeling that from that afternoon a new era in the history of
Templeton had been inaugurated.

Our heroes, who in the midst of later excitements had half-forgotten
their own share in the afternoon's proceedings, were among the first to
get out into the Quadrangle; and once there, their manner changed from
one of dignified solemnity to one of agitated expectancy.

In a quarter of an hour their guest was due in Cresswell's study, and
between now and then, what had they not to do?

Who shall describe that wondrous spread, or the heroes that partook of
it? How, when Mr Richardson arrived, punctual and hungry, he found a
table groaning under every delicacy the ingenuity and pocket-money of
three juniors could provide; how the kidneys were done to a turn and the
tea-cake to a shade; how jam-pots stood like forts at each corner of the
snowy cloth; how hot rolls and bath buns lorded it over white loaf and
brown; how eggs, boiled three minutes and five seconds by Heathcote's
watch, peeped out among watercress and lettuces; how rosy apples and
luscious pears jostled one another in the centre dish; and how tea and
coffee breathed forth threatenings at one another from rival pots on the
same tray?

It was a spread to make the mouths in Olympus water, and drive Hebe and
Ganymede to despair. Mr Richardson, who, in the guilelessness of his
heart, had brought a small plum-cake as a contribution to the feast,
positively blushed as he saw that table, and hid his poor mite back in
his pocket for very shame.

The "Firm," when they did go in for a thing, did it well, and no
mistake; and, if Mr Richardson had paid up royally for them during the
day, he should find that more than one could play at that game, and that
they would pay up royally at night.

Like a brave man, the good father expanded his appetite, and, regardless
of consequences, took a little of everything. The "Firm" took a great
deal of everything, and never was a more jovial meal.

Coote's cup seemed to be always on the road to or from the pot, and
Georgie was for ever mistaking the dish of tea-cake for his own private
plate; while Dick, bolder than any of them, insisted on giving his
parent ocular demonstration of the wholesomeness of each several dish,
until that good gentleman began to think it was a good thing he was not
a daily visitor at Templeton.

"Jolly