"Come, boys," cried Susan, as she ran forth to the terrace to greet them, "Uncle John will be here in a few minutes; his grooms arrived an hour ago with his baggage, and now they have set his room in order for him. Hurry up, or you will keep supper waiting!"
The boys answered her greeting merrily, and taking her hands they ran by her side towards the entrance porch, which they entered just as Uncle John appeared upon the scene.
Susan ran out to salute him as he dismounted from his grey sorrel—the boys darted upward to their rooms.
As Sir John entered the house, his brother William came forward to greet him with the warmest of welcomes.
It was a happy party which gathered in the dining-hall that evening.
The supper was served at so early an hour that the candles in the silver sconces were not yet required: the light of day still gleamed into the hall through the lozenge-paned oriel window, and sent coloured streams across the fair napery of the table as it passed through the stained glass of armorial bearings. Sir John sat at the head of the table, as he always did when he came to Chiddingly—though he had made a "deed of gift" of the Place in favour of his brother William when he took up his abode in London.
Presently the shadows of evening began to deepen, and the wax tapers were lit.
How pleasant the hall looked as the light shone on the wainscoted walls and illumined the features of past generations of Jefferays whose portraits adorned the beautiful chamber!