rema, your mind is all up in the sky," my companion began to
remonstrate. "You ought to know better after all your travels."

"Then the sky should not fall and confuse me so," I said, pointing to
the Milky Way, not more than a yard above me; "but do tell me what he
meant, if you can. Is it about the formation of the soup?"

"Hush, my dear. Soup is high treason here until night, when they make it
of the leavings. His honest desire was to know whether you would have a
grilled bone of mutton, which is naturally round, you know, or of beef,
which, by the same law of nature, seems always to be square, you know."

"Oh, I see," I replied, with some confusion, not at his osteology, but
at the gaze of a pair of living and lively eyes fastened upon me. A
gentleman, waiting for his bill, had risen in the next low box, and
stood calmly (as if he had done all his duty to himself) gazing over the
wooden back at me, who thus sat facing him. And Major Hockin, following
my glance, stood up and turned round to see to it.

"What! Cousin Montague! Bless my heart, who could have dreamed of
lighting on you here? Come in, my dear follow; there is plenty of
room. Let me introduce you to my new ward, Miss Erema Castlewood. Miss
Castlewood, this is Sir Montague Hockin, the son of my lamented first
cousin Sir Rufus, of whom you have heard so much. Well, to be sure! I
have not seen you for an age. My dear fellow, now how are you?"

"Miss Castlewood, please not to move; I sit any where. Major, I am most
delighted to see you. Over and over again I have been at the point of
starting for Bruntsea Island--it is an island now, isn't it? My father
would never believe that it was till I proved it from the number of
rabbits that came up. However, not a desolate island now, if it contains
you and all your energies, and Miss Castlewood, as well as Mrs. Hockin."

"It is not an island, and it never shall be," the Major cried, knocking
a blue plate over, and spilling the salt inauspiciously. "It never
was an island, and it never shall be. My intention is to reclaim it
altogether. Oh, here come the squares. Well done! well done! I quite
forget the proper thing to have to drink. Are the cockles in the pan,
Mr. Waiter? Quite right, then; ten minutes is the proper time; but they
know that better than I do. I am very sorry, Montague, that you have
dined."

"Surely you would not call this a dinner; I take my true luncheon
afterward. But lately my appetite has b