ith effusive cordiality and with ingratiating
blandness.

"I am not going to stay," she explained, smiling pleasantly at the group
of men, her pretty, wide-open brown eyes, with their look of inquiry and
innocence, glancing from face to face, "I only came to see if you wanted
anything and to say how do you do."

She began talking to old Broderson, making inquiries as to his wife, who
had been sick the last week, and Osterman turned to the company, shaking
hands all around, keeping up an incessant stream of conversation.

"Hello, boys and girls. Hello, Governor. Sort of a gathering of the
clans to-night. Well, if here isn't that man Annixter. Hello, Buck. What
do you know? Kind of dusty out to-night."

At once Annixter began to get red in the face, retiring towards a corner
of the room, standing in an awkward position by the case of stuffed
birds, shambling and confused, while Mrs. Derrick was present, standing
rigidly on both feet, his elbows close to his sides. But he was angry
with Osterman, muttering imprecations to himself, horribly vexed that
the young fellow should call him "Buck" before Magnus's wife. This goat
Osterman! Hadn't he any sense, that fool? Couldn't he ever learn how to
behave before a feemale? Calling him "Buck" like that while Mrs. Derrick
was there. Why a stable-boy would know better; a hired man would have
better manners. All through the dinner that followed Annixter was out of
sorts, sulking in his place, refusing to eat by way of vindicating his
self-respect, resolving to bring Osterman up with a sharp turn if he
called him "Buck" again.

The Chinaman had made a certain kind of plum pudding for dessert, and
Annixter, who remembered other dinners at the Derrick's, had been saving
himself for this, and had meditated upon it all through the meal. No
doubt, it would restore all his good humour, and he believed his stomach
was so far recovered as to be able to stand it.

But, unfortunately, the pudding was served with a sauce that he
abhorred--a thick, gruel-like, colourless mixture, made from plain water
and sugar. Before he could interfere, the Chinaman had poured a quantity
of it upon his plate.

"Faugh!" exclaimed Annixter. "It makes me sick. Such--such SLOOP. Take
it away. I'll have mine straight, if you don't mind."

"That's good for your stomach, Buck," observed young Osterman; "makes it
go down kind of sort of slick; don't you see? Sloop, hey? That's a good
name."

"Look here, don'