fixedly that he choked upon his last mouthful of supper and
remonstrated:

"Gad, Bet, why d'ye fix a man so wi' such great eyes? What might ye be
thinking this time?"

"That we are grown more like each other than ever, dear--'tis
marvellous! Aye, 'tis marvellous," she continued absently, "though
your voice will never do!"

"Voice, Bet? Egad, what's in your mind now?"

"Mr. Dalroyd, Charles, for one thing."

"Aye, and what of the fellow?"

"Would he were choked with a flap-dragon. But--meanwhile----"

"What, Betty?"

"Hark, there's aunt wailing for me, I must go. You are free of all the
upper chambers of this wing, but mind, if I whistle you must get you
into hiding at once."

So saying, she shook portentous finger at him, smiled and vanished.

CHAPTER XXVI

OF BACCHUS AND THE MUSES

Seldom or never, in all its length of days, had the great dining room
of the ancient hostelry of the "George and Dragon" glowed with such
sartorial splendour or known such an elegant posturing of silk-clad
legs, such a flirting of ruffles, such a whirl of full-skirted coats;
coats, these, of velvet, of worked satin and rich brocade, coats of
various colours from Sir Benjamin's pink and gold to Lord Alvaston's
purple and silver; the light of many candles scintillated in jewelled
cravat and shoe-buckle, shone upon crested buttons and on the glossy
curls of huge periwigs, black, brown and gold. In the midst of this
gorgeous company stood a short, stoutish gentleman, his booted legs
wide apart, his sun-burned face nearly as red as his weatherbeaten
service coat, a little man with a truculent eye.

"Od's my life, my lord Colonel!" exclaimed Sir Benjamin, wringing his
hand, "I know not what propitious zephyr hath wafted George Cleeve into
these Arcadian solitudes, but hem! being hither I do protest you shall
this night sit the honoured guest of good-Fellowship, Bacchus and the
Muses, shedding upon our poetical revels the--the effulgence of your
hem! your glories, gracing our company with, I say with the----"

"Hold, Ben!" sighed my Lord Alvaston, making graceful play with his
slender legs, "hold hard, Ben, an' get your wind while I 'splain. Sir,
what poor Ben's been tryin' t' tell you 'n' can't tell you is--that we
shall rejoice if you'll sup with us. And so say we all----"

"Strike me dumb if we don't!" added the Marquis.

"Haw!" muttered the Captain. "B'gad! So we do!"

"Gentlemen," said the Colonel, "I pr