James, a long ill-weedy looking man, was seated before the kitchen fire on a chair without a back; Susannah, on hearing their footsteps, darted into the scullery. "Now, James, now, James," said Charles Bevan, speaking in a paternal voice, "what is the meaning of all this? How did you get yourself into this condition?" James turned his head and regarded Charles. He made a vain endeavour to speak and rise from his chair at one and the same time, then he collapsed and his tears returned anew. At the sound, Susannah in the scullery threw her apron over her head and joined in, whilst Fanny looked out of the window and sniffled. "_I_ never saw such a lot of people!" cried Charles in desperation. "James, James, be a man." "How can he," said Fanny, controlling her voice, "when he is in this terrible state? Cousin Charles, don't you think you could induce him to go to bed?" "I think I could," said Charles grimly, "if you show me the way to his room." _PART II_ CHAPTER I A REVELATION "When will your father come back?" asked Charles as he returned to the kitchen, having deposited the man of law on his bed and shaken his fist in his face as a token of what he would get if he rose from it. "Not till this evening, late," said Fanny. "Then I must wait till he returns, or till this person recovers himself. I cannot possibly leave you alone in the house with a tipsy man." "Oh yes, do stay till father returns. I want you to meet him so much," said Fanny, all her grief vanishing in smiles. "Susannah, we'll have supper at eight." "Yes, miss." "I am almost glad," said Fanny, as she tripped up the kitchen stairs before her cousin, "I am almost glad James took it into his head to get tipsy, you'd have gone away if he hadn't, without seeing father; it seems almost like Providence. Mercy! it's six o'clock." She glanced at the great old hall clock ticking away the moments, even as it had done when George the Third was king, and Charles took his watch out to verify the time, but he did not catch the old clock tripping. "Now we must think about supper," said Fanny, in a busy voice. "You must be dying of hunger. What do you like best?" "But you have not dined, Fanny." "Oh, we always call dinner 'luncheon,' and have it in the middle of the day; it saves trouble, and it is less worry." Then, after a moment's pause: "I wish we had a lobster, but I don't think there is one. I _know_ there is a beefsteak." She went to the kitchen stairs. "Susannah!" "Yes, miss," answered a dolorous voice from below. "Have you a lobster in the house?" "No, miss." "You have a beefsteak?" A sound came as of search amongst the plates on the dresser. "The beefsteak is gone, Miss Fanny." "Now, _where_ can that beefsteak have gone to?" murmured the girl, whilst Charles called to mind the criminal countenances of the two faithful cats, and the business-like manner in which they had left the room. "Search again, Susannah."