deah boy upstairs, the pehsehveh of my pooah life, is his
nephew, his sistah's son. I was suah there was something drawing me to
him. I shall make that brave boy my heih, my pooah deah comhade
Fahquhah's nephew. What a fohtunate discovehy. Kindly excuse me, madam,
and you my deah ladies, and you Squiah; I must go and tell my deah boy."
So the colonel bowed to Mrs. Carruthers, and went out, with his
handkerchief up to his face.

After the colonel left the table, the Captain looked over at his niece,
saying: "Too late, Marjorie, my lass, too late! Didn't play your cards
right, so you're cut out. Shifted his sheet anchor to the t'other bow,
Marjorie."

Miss Carmichael was annoyed with good reason, and, in order to put a
stop to such uncalled for and vulgar remarks, said, playfully, but with
a spice of malice: "Take care, Uncle Thomas, or, as that funny
theological student said to the people who were talking in church, 'I'll
call out your name before the haill congregation.'" This terrible threat
caused Ezekiel to subside, and carry on a less personal conversation
with Miss Du Plessis. Then Mr. Terry came to the fore again.

"My little grandchilders' coushin, Mishter Coristine, do be sayin' yer
name is Eujane, an' that's Frinch, isn't it?"

"Yes," replied the lawyer; "my mother was of Huguenot descent, and her
name was Du Moulin. Some say that the Irish Mullens were once Du
Moulins. That I don't know, but I'm not like the man-servant who applied
for a situation, saying: 'Me name is Murphy, sorr, but me family came
from France.' Coristine, I think, is good Irish."

The name craze spread over the whole table. Miss Halbert thought Basil a
lovely name. It was Greek, wasn't it, and meant a king? Mr. Perrowne
thought that the sweetest name in the world was Frances or Fanny. Mr.
Errol affected Marjorie, and Mrs. Carmichael knew nothing superior to
Hugh.

"What made you so savage with the Captain for coupling your name with
Wilks?" asked the lawyer in an undertone.

"Because he is the last man in the world I should want my name to be
coupled with."

"Oh, but that's hard on Wilks; he's a glorious fellow when you get to
know his little ways."

"I don't want to know Mr. Wilkinson's little ways. I am sorry for his
wound, but otherwise I have not the remotest sympathy with him. He
strikes me as a selfish, conceited man."

"Not a kinder soul breathing, Miss Carmichael."

"Yes, there is."

"Who, then?"

"Yourself."

"