lance round
the room, as though rapidly taking note of the appearance and faces of
all the young men, then, with a sort of stiff curtsey, she departed as
noiselessly as she had come,--not, however, without leaving a
disagreeable impression on Errington's mind.

"Rather a stern Phyllis, that waiting-maid of yours," he remarked,
watching his host, who was carefully drawing the cork from one of the
bottles of wine.

Mr. Dyceworthy smiled. "Oh, no, no! not stern at all," he answered
sweetly. "On the contrary, most affable and kind-hearted. Her only fault
is that she is a little zealous,--over-zealous for the purity of the
faith; and she has suffered much; but she is an excellent woman, really
excellent! Sir Philip, will you try this Lacrima Christi?"

"Lacrima Christi!" exclaimed Duprez. "You do not surely get that in
Norway?"

"It seems strange, certainly," replied Mr. Dyceworthy, "but it is a fact
that the Italian or Papist wines are often used here. The minister whose
place I humbly endeavor to fill has his cellar stocked with them. The
matter is easy of comprehension when once explained. The benighted
inhabitants of Italy, a land, lost in the darkness of error, still
persist in their fasts, notwithstanding the evident folly of their
ways--and the Norwegian sailors provide them with large quantities of
fish for their idolatrous customs, bringing back their wines in
exchange."

"A very good idea," said Lorimer, sipping the Lacrima with evident
approval--"Phil, I doubt if your brands on board the _Eulalie_ are
better than this."

"Hardly so good," replied Errington with some surprise, as he tasted the
wine and noted its delicious flavor. "The minister must be a fine
_connoisseur_. Are there many other families about here, Mr. Dyceworthy,
who know how to choose their wines so well?"

Mr. Dyceworthy smiled with a dubious air.

"There is one other household that in the matter of choice liquids is
almost profanely particular," he said. "But they are people who are
ejected with good reason from respectable society, and,--it behooves me
not to speak of their names."

"Oh, indeed!" said Errington, while a sudden and inexplicable thrill of
indignation fired his blood and sent it in a wave of color up to his
forehead--"May I ask--"

But he was interrupted by Lorimer, who, nudging him slyly on one side,
muttered, "Keep cool, old fellow! You can't tell whether he's talking
about the Gueldmar folk! Be quiet--you don't wa