"A giddy, perverse child I was,” retorted Mrs. Meredith; “and another art thou, to fling the misbehaviour in thy mother’s face.”
“Nay, nay, Patty—” began the squire; but whether he was stepping forward in defence of his wife or his daughter he was not permitted to say, for Mrs. Meredith continued:—
“We’ll set the wedding for next Thursday, if that suits thee, Philemon?”
“You can’t name a day too soon for me, marm,” assented Philemon, eagerly; “and as I just hearn the sound of hoofs outside, ’t is likely some officers has arrived, and I’ll speak ter them so ’s ter get word ter the chaplain, and ter my regiment. You need n’t be afraid, Miss Janice, that ’t won’t be done in high style. Like as not, General Grant will put the whole post under arms.” In truth, the lover was not at his ease, and was glad enough for an excuse which took him from the room. Nor was he less eager to announce his success to his comrades, hoping it would put an end to their attentions to his bride.
“Then ye’ll do as I bid ye, Jan?” questioned her father.
“Yes, dadda,” Janice assented dutifully, while striving to stifle her sobs. “I—I’ve been a—a—wicked creature, I know, and now I’ll do as you and mommy tell me.”
If Philemon had been made uneasy by the girl’s tears, her manner during the balance of the day did not tend to make him happier. Her sudden gravity and silence were so marked that his fellow-officers who had come to supper, and who did not know the true situation, rallied them both on Miss Meredith’s loss of spirits.
“I’ faith,” declared Sir Frederick Mobray, moved perhaps by twinges of the little green monster, “but for the lieutenant’s word I’d take oath ’t was a funeral we were to attend, and issue orders for the casing of colours and muffling of drums. In the name of good humour, Mr. Meredith, have in the spirits, and I’ll brew a punch that shall liquidate the gloom.”
After one glass of the steaming drink, the ladies, as was the custom, rose to leave the room. At the door Janice was intercepted by Peg, with word that Sukey wished to advise with her anent some matter, so the maid did not follow her mother, but turned and entered the kitchen.
The cook was not in view; but as the girl realised the fact, a cloaked man suddenly stepped from behind the chimney breast, and before the scream that rose to Janice’s lips could escape, a firm hand was laid on them. Yet, even in the moment of surprise, the girl was conscious that, press as the fingers might, there was still an element of caress in their touch.