the colour of his money yet," said Ambrose, who seemed
extremely amused.

"I wish you never may," quoth my aunt. "But I sadly fear you are going
the way to do it."

The more Ambrose laughed, the graver my Aunt Kezia seemed to grow.
Before we had finished breakfast, Angus came languidly into the room.

"What ails you, old comrade?" said Ambrose; and Flora's eyes looked up
with the same question, but I think there were tears on the brown
velvet.

"Oh, my head aches conf--I mean--abominably," said Angus, flushing.

"Take a hair of the dog that bit you," suggested Ambrose; "unless you
think humble pie will agree with you better. I fancy Miss Drummond
would rather help you to that last."

I saw a flash in Mr Keith's eyes, which gave me the idea that he might
not be a pleasant person to meet alone in a glen at midnight, if he had
no scruples as to what he did.

"You hold your tongue!" growled Angus.

"By all means, if you prefer it," said Ambrose, lightly.

One after another, the gentlemen strolled in,--all but two who stayed in
bed till afternoon, and of these Mr Catterall was one. Among the last
to appear was Mr Bagnall; but he looked quite fresh and gay when he
came, like Ambrose.

"We had to say grace for ourselves, Mr Bagnall," said Father. "Sit
down, and let me help you to some of this turkey pie."

"Thanks--if you please. What a lovely morning!" was Mr Bagnall's
answer. "The young ladies look like fresh rosebuds with the dew on
them."

"We have not you gentlemen to thank for it, if we do," broke in Hatty.
"Our slumbers were all the less profound for your kind assistance. Oh
yes, you can look, Mr Bagnall! I mean _you_. I heard `Sally in our
Alley' about one o'clock this morning."

"No, was I singing that, now?" said Mr Bagnall, laughing. "I did not
know I got quite so far. But at a hunt-supper, you know, everything is
excusable."

"Would you give me a reference to the passage which says so, Mr
Bagnall?" came from behind the tea-pot. "I should like to note it in my
Bible."

Mr Bagnall laughed again, but rather uncomfortably.

"My dear Mrs Kezia, you do not imagine the Bible has anything to do
with a hunt-supper?"

"It is to be hoped I don't, or I should be woefully disappointed," she
answered. "But I always thought, Mr Bagnall, that the Word of God and
the ministers of God should have something to do with one another."

"Kezia, keep your Puritan notions to yourself!" roared Father fr