The latter had watched the
working geologist slinking off in the Lake Settlement direction across
the fields and by bush tracks. Mr. Terry and the children, having
partaken of tea, remained out in the front with Muggins, and sang some
more hymns, Marjorie leading their choir. The rest of the household,
reinforced by Mr. Perrowne, who, much to Wilkinson's disgust,
monopolized Miss Du Plessis, sat round the ample tea-table. In a
shamefaced way, as if engaged in an illegal ecclesiastical transaction,
the English clergyman mumbled: "For what we are about to receive," and
the evening meal proceeded. The Squire had ceded his end of the table to
his sister, and had taken his post at her left, where he talked to the
dominie, his next neighbour, and across the table to Mr. Errol. Perrowne
flanked the hostess on the right, and Nash on the left. Miss Du Plessis
sat between Perrowne and Wilkinson, a stately and elegant bone of
contention; while the lawyer had the detective on one side and Miss
Carmichael on the other. As that young lady had something to do with the
arrangement of the table by Tryphosa, in the matter of napkin rings, it
was, if Coristine only knew it, a mark of her confidence in him that
she permitted his presence on her right. Nevertheless he profited little
by it, as she gave all her conversation to the minister, save when the
attention of that elderly admirer was taken up by her uncle. As Perrowne
was compelled to be civil to Mrs. Carruthers, while Mr. Nash entertained
the lawyer, an opportunity was afforded the schoolmaster of improving
his acquaintance with Miss Du Plessis, of which he took joyful
advantage, feeling that in so doing with all brilliancy he was planting
thorns in the breasts of two innocent beings, whom he inwardly
characterized as a clerical puppy and an ungrateful, perfidious,
slanderous worm. Neither the puppy nor the worm were happy, as he
joyfully perceived.

The meal was over, and they were preparing to have early evening prayers
for the sake of the children, when a vehicle drove up, and a burly form,
clad in navy blue broadcloth with a plentiful trimming of gilt buttons,
descending from it, came along the path towards the house, accompanied
by Marjorie.

"It's papa!" she cried to Carruthers and his wife, who had gone to the
door to see who their visitor was, and call the children in. It was the
Captain, and in the buggy, holding the reins, sat The Crew. "Don't sit
grinning there, you bl