"Where is that lazy boy Arthur, I wonder?" asked Mrs. Carmichael; whereupon Miss Du Plessis told her story, and all joined in a hearty laugh at Mr. Lamb's fright and sudden retreat.
Mr. Errol, feeling none the worse of the previous day's splore, and still renewing his youth over the fish he and Mr. Bigglethorpe had caught, suddenly remembered and confessed: "Dear me, Mrs. Carmichael, I forgot that I had Mr. Coristine's merschaum, and his tobacco and penknife. Puir lad, what'll he dae withoot his pipe?"
"You naughty man, Mr. Errol, is it possible that you smoke?"
"Whiles, mem, whiles."
"How many pipes a day, now, Mr. Errol?"
"Oh, it depends. When I'm in smoking company, I can take a good many, eh Mr. Bigglethorpe?"
"Yesterday was a very special occaision, Mr. Errol. You called it renewing your youth, you know, and nimed the picnic a splore."
"I felt like a laddie again at the fishing, Mrs. Carmichael, just as light-hearted and happy as if I were a callant on the hills."
"And what do you generally feel like? Not an old man, I hope?"
"I'll never be a young one again, Mrs. Carmichael."