He was silent for a moment. Then he said, 'Fetch the little devils, I want to see them.'
'Charles, for shame!' exclaimed Honor, reddening and frowning, and her brown eyes flashed an angry light.
'Tut, tut! soldier's talk. You won't find my tongue wear kid gloves. I meant no harm.'
'You shall not speak of the children in such terms,' said Honor, firmly.
'Halloo! Do you think I will stand being hectored by you?'
'There, there,' threw in Oliver Luxmore, 'the boy meant nothing by it. He has got into a careless way of expressing himself. That is all.'
'That is all,' laughed Charles, 'and now I have a true soldier's thirst, and I am not a dog to lap up the spilt liquor off the floor. What is it, beer? Is there any brandy in the house?'
'You can have a drop of cyder,' said Honor, with frowning brows. 'Or, if that does not please you, water from the spring. The cyder is middling, but the water is good.'
'No water for me. Fetch me the cyder.'
'There is a hogshead in the cellar under the stairs in the back kitchen,' said Honor. 'Fill yourself a mug of it.'