“I 'll beg a little more tea in this, ma'am,” said the Major, holding out his cup. “Do you mean water, sir? Did you say it was too strong?” “With your leave, I 'll take it a trifle stronger,” said he, with a malicious twinkle in his eye, for he knew all the offence his speech implied. “I'm glad to hear you say so, Major M'Cormick. I'm happy to know that your nerves are stronger than at the time of that expedition you quote with such pleasure. Is yours to your liking, sir?” “I 'll ask for some water, dear lady,” broke in Dill, who began to think that the fire was hotter than usual. “As I said to Mrs. Dill, 'Molly,' says I, 'how is it that I never drink such tea anywhere as at the--'” He stopped, for he was going to say, the Harringtons', and he trembled at the liberty; and he dared not say the Fisherman's Home, lest it should be thought he was recalling their occupation; and so, after a pause and a cough, he stammered out--“'at the sweet cottage.'” Nor was his confusion the less at perceiving how she had appreciated his difficulty, and was smiling at it. “Very few strangers in these parts lately, I believe,” said M'Cormick, who knew that his remark was a dangerous one. “I fancy none, sir,” said she, calmly. “We, at least, have no customers, if that be the name for them.” “It's natural, indeed, dear lady, you shouldn't know how they are called,” began the doctor, in a fawning tone, “reared and brought up as you were.” The cold, steady stare of Miss Barrington arrested his speech; and though he made immense efforts to recover himself, there was that in her look which totally overcame him. “Sit down to your rubber, sir,” said she, in a whisper that seemed to thrill through his veins. “You will find yourself far more at home at the odd trick there, than attempting to console me about my lost honors.” And with this fierce admonition, she gave a little nod, half in adieu, half in admonition, and swept haughtily out of the room. M'Cormick heaved a sigh as the door closed after her, which very plainly bespoke how much he felt the relief. “My poor sister is a bit out of spirits this evening,” said Barrington, who merely saw a certain show of constraint over his company, and never guessed the cause. “We've had some unpleasant letters, and one thing or another to annoy us, and if she does n't join us at supper, you 'll excuse her, I know, M'Cormick.” “That we will, with--” He was going to add, “with a heart and a half,” for he felt, what to him was a rare sentiment, “gratitude;” but Dill chimed in,-- “Of course, we couldn't expect she'd appear. I remarked she was nervous when we came in. I saw an expression in her eye--” “So did I, faith,” muttered M'Cormick, “and I'm not a doctor.” “And here's our whist-table,” said Barrington, bustling about; “and there 's a bit of supper ready there for us in that room, and we 'll help ourselves, for I 've sent Darby to bed. And now give me a hand with these cards, for they 've all got mixed together.”