"When will your father come back?" asked Charles as he returned to the kitchen, having deposited the man of law on his bed and shaken his fist in his face as a token of what he would get if he rose from it.
"Not till this evening, late," said Fanny.
"Then I must wait till he returns, or till this person recovers himself. I cannot possibly leave you alone in the house with a tipsy man."
"Oh yes, do stay till father returns. I want you to meet him so much," said Fanny, all her grief vanishing in smiles.
"Susannah, we'll have supper at eight."
"Yes, miss."
"I am almost glad," said Fanny, as she tripped up the kitchen stairs before her cousin, "I am almost glad James took it into his head to get tipsy, you'd have gone away if he hadn't, without seeing father; it seems almost like Providence. Mercy! it's six o'clock."
She glanced at the great old hall clock ticking away the moments, even as it had done when George the Third was king, and Charles took his watch out to verify the time, but he did not catch the old clock tripping.
"Now we must think about supper," said Fanny, in a busy voice. "You must be dying of hunger. What do you like best?"
"But you have not dined, Fanny."