"We are five minutes early," said Justin, seriously, but respectfully, as he drew out his own watch.
"You are a bold lad," said the maiden lady, "to try to beard a lioness in her own den."
"I appeal to the rest of the company," said Justin.
Captain Veevers and Mr. Huntington drew out their watches. Miss Gastonguay would not believe them until she had had all the clocks in the house consulted. Then she admitted herself mistaken, and asked Justin's pardon.
"You are one of those uncomfortable people," she said, wagging her head at him, "that one always finds in the right. I should hate to live with you—don't you?" and she wheeled suddenly toward Derrice.
Derrice, to her husband's mingled delight and anxiety lest others should perceive the resemblance, wagged her light head in the same fashion that the old lady wagged her grizzled one. "Yes, but I cannot get away from him."
The girl's tone was so ludicrous that every one smiled except Chelda, who favoured her with a long and searching glance. She wished to discover whether she loved her husband. She could not tell. Justin was impassive, and Derrice was conventionally girlish. She would leave the question open for future consideration.
"Come, let's go to dinner," said Miss Gastonguay. "There is Prosperity swaying his head like a Chinese idol. Give me your arm, Justin Mercer. We will pretend we are royalties and go ahead. The others may follow."
Justin was not comfortable during the dinner, although he went through it with a composed face. His life hitherto had been so quiet, his wants so simple, that this elaborately served meal made him impatient, almost irritated. He begrudged the length of time spent at the table, and inwardly disapproved of the amount of money represented by the hand-painted china, the gold and silver dinner service, and yet, when he glanced at his wife's happy face, he became calm.
"Some men would spoil her," said Miss Gastonguay, in an undertone, "you will discipline her."