As she came abreast of the group, she involuntarily raised her eyes, and they encountered a grave, earnest gaze from one whom she had never before seen; and in that brief moment she was aware that she was the object of a very scrutinising examination.
The next minute she had passed between the folds of the tent door, and was busy getting her girls seated at the long table on one side, the boys occupying a second long table on the other side, both being covered with well-cooked hot joints, steaming potatoes, and, dear to all children’s hearts, plenty of pies and puddings.
“Well, ladies,” said Mr Canninge, “shall we adjourn to the tent?”
“Did you think of going in?” said Beatrice.
“To be sure,” he said gaily. “I am going to help.”
“Going to help!” said Miss Lambent.
“To be sure: I promised Mr Burge. Let me take you in. Miss Lambent.”
Rebecca took a long breath and the squire’s arm. She liked it, but she knew that Beatrice would be out of temper for hours after.
There was no cause for temper, though—for the squire, as he was always called in the neighbourhood, had no sooner led the elder Miss Lambent within the canvas walls, then he coolly forsook her, and went and placed himself behind a great sirloin of beef at one end of the girls’ table, facing Mr William Forth Burge, who had the twin joint before him, over which his round red face was smiling pleasantly. The vicar had gone to one end of the boys’ table, the master being at the other, while several of the principal tradesmen took their places in front of other joints.
“Now, boys and girls,” cried the host, “are you all ready?”