Ann Whitlock and the young people fully agreed with Aunt Monica’s view of the case, for with them feeding was always the most serious business of life, at which they wanted no disturbing or restraining influence; and here indeed was a feast not to be slighted on account of any company in the world, but to be discussed at liberty and enjoyed at leisure. So the party of four sat down to an epicure’s supper and did it full justice. Young Bruce complimented Mrs. Palmer upon the excellence of her dishes, whereupon poor Susan, with much pride, answered: “Well, sir, it is not much to say to _you_; but our old Aunt Monica was chief cook to old Captain Wyndeworth, who was one of the greatest epitaphs in the country.” Ronald’s dark mustache quivered for a moment with the humorous smile that was hovering around his lips; but that smile vanished when he saw the distressed face of poor Em., who sat directly opposite him. John saw all and understood half, saying to himself: “Now the old ’oman has put her foot in it somehow or other; but what odds? ‘Sich is life.’” Young Bruce had tact enough to change the subject and lead the conversation into such channels of entertainment and amusement that the face of Em. soon lost its look of care and pain, lighted up with interest and beamed with pleasure. And the little, half perceived cloud having vanished, the dainty supper passed off very pleasantly. When they rose from the table, John led the way to the front piazza, saying: “I couldn’t advise you to sit under the trees at this hour, sir. The dews are heavy at this season.” The young man took the offered seat from his host and sat down in the summer night’s sweet gloom, holding the hand of Em., who, unseen, sat near him and good-naturedly answering the child-like questions of honest John, who wanted to know if he had ever been to Africa. If he could tell anything about the slave trade on the coast of Guinea. If he had ever been to the Mediterranean. If he knew much about the pirates of the coast of Barbary. And were there really wreckers there who rescued shipwrecked passengers from the deep only to carry them off inland and sell them into slavery? Had he ever doubled the Cape of Good Hope, and were there really chunks of solid gold to be found there as big as pigs of lead? And diamonds large as lumps of coal? Had he ever doubled Cape Horn? And was there truly a land of fire there, corresponding to the land of ice in Iceland, say? Young Ronald Bruce had been to sea in some capacity or other ever since he was ten years old. So he had seen all these places, and was able to answer all these questions, and many more, that were put to him during the evening. His patience was inexhaustible while he held the slender, delicate little hand of Em. within his own. But these honest people were early birds, and very soon Susan Palmer suggested that their guest must be weary by this time and would perhaps like to be shown to his room.