“At the Lodge here only this morning,” answered Harcourt.
“Dinner ready, Margaret?” inquired the younger.
“I suppose so, Si. I have just come from the office.”
As she spoke the door of the sitting-room opened, and Mrs. Wynthrop, who had heard the talk, came out with her daughter Elizabeth, and said:
“Yes, dinner is ready; we are only waiting for you.”
They entered the dining-room, which was just in the rear of the sitting-room, and gathered around the table.
Mr. Wynthrop, a churchman of the old Puritanical type, asked a blessing on the feast in a rather long prayer, but when that was over he fell to, helping his guest, his family and himself with more liberality than discretion, and then gave himself up to the enjoyment of creature comforts with more than ordinary zeal.
But the meal was not prolonged. Twenty minutes finished it for everybody.
When they left the table Martha came up and said to Harcourt:
“Young marse, de ole madam is axin’ fo’ yo’ ag’in. She seems moughty queer, she do.”