and
all wrought with this end in view. Some time before Maguffin left, he
had determined, with his Marjorie's permission, to give up being shaved
and let his beard grow, and now the beard was there, long, brown and
silky, a very respectable beard. But the face above it was very pale
yet, and the cruel knife wounds were still sore, and the whole man
enfeebled in limb by long bed-keeping. One pleasant day, far on in
September, the doctor allowed him to rise, and, between the Squire and
Mr. Terry, he was raised up and dressed. Then they carried the wasted
form out into the autumn sun, and laid him on a couch on the verandah.
Marjorie and all the little Carruthers came to see him, with bouquets of
garden flowers. Timotheus ventured to pay his respects, and even
Tryphena came round to congratulate him on his recovery. "Shall I read
Wordsworth to you, dear?" asked Miss Carmichael, ironically.

"Marjorie," answered a beard-muffled voice, "your single word's worth
more than all in that old duffer's poems," which the lady took as an
indication that her patient was improving.

"They are all depending on us to fix the day, Eugene; when will you be
strong enough?"

"Any time, Marjorie; what's to-day?"

"Saturday, you foolish man, don't you smell the preparations for
Sunday?"

"And the New York steamer sails on Saturday?"

"Yes."

"Well, if we are all married next Wednesday, we shall have time to get
to New York easily on Saturday morning."

"Then I will get uncle to arrange with papa Errol, and to summon the
Captain and auntie and Sylvanus."

"Oh yes, and Bigglethorpe and Bangs, and old Mrs. Hill. I would like to
have Ben here, too, if you wouldn't mind, Marjorie."

"We shall have everybody, and leave here on Thursday morning, to get you
well on the sea."

Mr. Terry came to ask if Mr. Coristine didn't think the least draw of a
pipe would do him good. The invalid thought it would, and, while the
veteran went upstairs to fetch the lawyer's long-unused briar, Miss
Carmichael left him, ostensibly offended that he preferred a pipe to her
society, yet inwardly glad that he was strong enough to relish tobacco
again. Mr. Douglas joined the smokers, and they had a very jolly time.
"What will you do, Mr. Terry, when we are all gone!" asked the Edinburgh
lawyer. "It 'ull be gone too Oi will mysilf by that toime," replied the
veteran.

"I mean, when we are on the Atlantic."

"Plaze God, Oi'll be an the Atlantic mysilf."

"