es of dried
herbs, strings of onions, and even Mr. Binks's fishing-boots--all were
new to her interested gaze, and her quick eyes took in everything from
the gun-rack over the dresser to the china dogs on the chimney-piece.
The kitchen was so large that half of it seemed to be reserved as a
parlour; there was a square of carpet laid down at one end, upon which
stood a round table spread with Mrs. Binks's very best china
tea-service, and a supply of dainties that would have feasted a dozen
visitors at least. The long, low window was filled with scarlet
geraniums, between the vivid blossoms of which you could catch a peep of
the cove and the water beyond; and just outside hung a cage containing a
pair of doves, which kept up an incessant cooing. Mrs. Binks made quite
a picture, seated in a tall elbow chair, wielding her big teapot, and
she pressed her muffins and currant tea-cakes upon her guests with true
north-country hospitality.

"You ought to be sharp set after a two-mile walk," she observed. "Take
it through, missy, take it through! You must have 'the bishop' with 'the
curate,' as we say in these parts; the top piece is nought but the poor
curate, for all the butter runs to the bottom, and that's the bishop! Is
your tea as you like it? You must taste our apple jelly, made of our own
crabs as grows in the orchard out at back, unless you'd as lief try the
damson cheese or the strawberry jam."

Mr. Binks seemed much undecided whether his position as host required
him to join the party, or whether his presence in such select company
would be an intrusion, and in spite of Mrs. Stewart's kindly-expressed
hope that he would occupy his own seat at the table, he finally
compromised the matter by carrying his tea to the opposite end of the
kitchen, and taking it on the dresser, from whence he fired off remarks
every now and then whenever Mrs. Binks, who was a hard talker and
monopolized the conversation, gave him a chance to put in a word. It was
amusing talk, Isobel thought, all about Mrs. Binks's children and
grandchildren, and the many illnesses from which they had suffered, and
the medicines they had tried, and the wonderful recoveries they had
made, interspersed by offers of more tea and cake and jam, or
lamentations over the small appetite of her visitors, whom she seemed to
expect to clear the plates like locusts.

"No more, missy? Why, you are soon done! And you haven't tasted my
cranberry cake! You must have a bit