"You silly folk!" he said. "God knows there's small need of this. But thank you all—wife, children, brothers, and nephew. I be getting up home to my tether's end now, and can't look with certainty for over and above another ten birthdays or thereabouts; but such as come we'll keep together, if it pleases you. And if you be drinking, then here's to you all at a breath—to you all, not forgetting my son Nathan that's sailing on the sea."
"I'll write to Nat and tell him every blessed word of it, and what we've had for dinner and all," said May.
The company grew hilarious and Nathan, leaving them, went to the trap that had brought him from Shaugh Prior and returned with a bottle.
"'Tis a pretty cordial," he said, "and a thimbleful all round will steady what's gone and warm our hearts. Not but what they'm warm enough already."
The liquor was broached and all drank but Humphrey.
"Enough's as good as a feast. And you can saddle my pony, Mark. I'm going home now. I'm glad to have been here to-day; but I'm going now."
They pressed him to remain, but he judged the invitation to be half-hearted. However, he was tranquil and amiable at leave-taking. To Rupert he even extended an invitation.
Rupert was the only one of his brother's family for whom he even pretended regard.
"You can come and see me when you've got the time," he said. "I'll go for a walk along with you and hear what you have to say."
Then he rode off, but Mark stopped and finished the day with his cousins.