Clare Avery. Emily Sarah Holt

in no wise. He hath as tender a heart as any lad ever I saw. I have known him to weep bitterly over aught that hath touched his heart. Trust me, while I cast no doubt he shall play many a trick on little Clare, yet no sooner shall he see her truly sorrowful thereat, than Jack shall turn comforter, nor go not an inch further.”

      Barbara was beginning another question, of which she had plenty more to ask, when she saw that the clock pointed to a quarter to eleven, which was dinner-time at Enville Court. There was barely time to reach the house, and she took leave hastily, declining Mrs. Tremayne’s invitation to stay and dine at the parsonage.

      When she entered the hall, she found the household already assembled, and the sewers bringing in a smoking baron of beef. At the upper end Lady Enville was delicately arranging the folds of her crimson satin dress; the little girls were already seated; and Mistress Rachel, with brown holland apron and cuffs, stood with a formidable carving-knife in her hand, ready to begin an attack upon the beef. The carving was properly Lady Enville’s prerogative; but as with all things which gave her trouble, she preferred to delegate it to her sister-in-law.

      Sir Thomas came in late, and said grace hastily. The Elizabethan grace was not limited to half-a-dozen words. It took about as long as family prayers usually do now. Jack, in his usual style, came scampering in just when grace was finished.

      “Good sooth! I have had such discourse with Master Tremayne,” said Sir Thomas. “He hath the strangest fantasies. Only look you—”

      “A shive of beef, Sister?” interpolated Rachel, who had no notion of allowing the theoretical to take precedence of the practical.

      Lady Enville languidly declined anything so gross as beef. She would take a little—very little—of the venison pasty.

      “I’ll have beef, Aunt!” put in unseasonable Jack.

      “Wilt thou have manners?” severely returned Rachel.

      “Where shall I find them, Aunt?” coolly inquired Jack, letting his eyes rove about among the dishes. “May I help you likewise?”

      “Behave thyself, Jack!” said his father, laughing.

      The rebuke was neutralised by the laughter. Rachel went on carving in dignified silence.

      “Would you think it?” resumed Sir Thomas, when everybody was helped, and conversation free to flow. “Master Tremayne doth conceive that we Christian folk be meant to learn somewhat from those ancient Jews that did wander about with Moses in the wilderness. Ne’er heard I no such a fantasy. To conceive that we can win knowledge from the rotten old observances of those Jew rascals! Verily, this passeth!”

      “Beats the Dutch, Sir!” said incorrigible Jack.

      Note 1. All members of the Enville family and household are fictitious persons.