e to dinner."

"Neither I would, were it not that Mrs. Talfourd's sister came in after
church, and offered to stay with her the rest of the day. Whom did you
tell?"

"Your devoted friend, Mr. Perrowne."

Miss Du Plessis blushed a little, and the schoolmaster cut the clergyman
up several times and stuck his fork into him savagely. Then he commenced
a conversation with the Squire, into which the lady between them was
almost necessarily drawn. Mr. Nash edified Mrs. Carmichael; her
daughter conversed with the minister, to the latter's delight; while
Coristine divided his attentions between the hostess and Marjorie.

"What was Mr. Perrowne preaching on, Marjorie?" asked Mrs. Carruthers.

"Pillows on the ground," replied that young person.

Her cousin laughed, and came to the rescue, saying: "It was the Church,
the pillar and ground of the truth; Marjorie seems to associate all
English Church services with bedtime."

"There wasn't much bedtime about the service this morning," interposed
the lawyer; "the parson rattled along in grand style, and gave Miss
Carmichael, and all other broken reeds of dissenters, some piping hot
Durham mustard. Did it sting, Miss Carmichael?"

"Is that the effect mustard has on broken reeds, Mr. Coristine?"

"It is rather a mixing of metaphors, but you must make allowance for an
Irishman."

Mrs. Carruthers at once conversed with her countryman, or rather her
father's countryman, on Ireland, its woes and prospects, during which
Marjorie informed Mr. Errol that she had not known what made her
cousin's cheeks so red when looking on Eugene's prayer-book. Now she
knew; it was Durham mustard that stings. There must have been some in
the book. The victim of these remarks looked severely at the culprit,
but all in vain; she was not to be suppressed with a frown. She remarked
that Saul had a hymn-book that made you sneeze, and she asked him why,
and he said it was the snuff.

"What did Eugene put mustard in his prayer-book for?"

"Mr. Coristine didna say he put mustard in his bookie, Marjorie," said
the minister; "he said that Mr. Perrowne put mustard in his sermon,
because it was so fiery."

"I don't like mustard sermons; I like stories."

"Aye, we all like them, when they're good stories and well told, but
it's no easy work getting good stories. That was the way our Saviour
taught the people, and you couldna get a higher example."

"Why have we hardly any of that kind of teaching now?" as