“O, Roger, it was so jolly,” Carey was now heard to say above the confusion of voices. “Uncle Geoffrey was an old Jew, going to cut a pound of flesh out of Fred, and Henrietta was making a speech in a lawyer’s wig, and had just found such a dodge!” “Ha! like the masks in the carnival at Rio! Ferrars and I went ashore there, and--” “Have you been at Sutton Leigh, Roger?” “Have you dined?” “Cold turkey--excellent Christmas pie, only too much pepper--a cup of tea--no, but we will have the beef in--” Further conversation was suspended by these propositions, with the answers and thanks resulting therefrom, but in the midst grandpapa exclaimed, “Ah! here she is! Here is the counsellor! Here is a new cousin for you, Roger; here is the advocate for you when you have a tough law-suit! Lucky for you, Master Geoffrey, that she is not a man, or your nose would soon be put out of joint. You little rogue! How dared you make your mother and grandfather cry their hearts out?” “I was very glad to see you as bad as myself, sir,” said Mrs. Frederick Langford. “I was very much ashamed of being so foolish, but then, you know, I could hardly ever read through that scene without crying.” “Ah! you are a prudent mamma, and will not let her be conceited. But to see Geoffrey, with his lips quivering, and yet frowning and looking savage with all his might and main! Well, you are a capital set of actors, all of you, and we must see the end of it.” This was the great desire of Beatrice, and she was annoyed with Henrietta for having thrown aside her borrowed garments, but the Fates decreed otherwise. The Christmas pie came in, grandpapa proceeded to carve it, and soon lost the remembrance of the charade in talking to his eldest grandson about his travels. A sailor just returned from four years on the South American coast, who had doubled Cape Horn, shot condors on the Andes, caught goats at Juan Fernandez, fished for sharks in the Atlantic, and heard parrots chatter in the Brazilian woods, could not fail to be very entertaining, even though he cared not for the Incas of Peru, and could tell little about the beauties of an iceberg; and accordingly everyone was greatly entertained, except the Queen Bee, who sat in a corner of the sofa, playing with her watch-chain, wondering how long Roger would go on eating pie, looking at the time-piece, and strangling the yawns induced by her inability to attract the notice of either of her squires, whose eyes and ears were all for the newcomer. She was not even missed; if she had been, it would have been some consolation; but on they went, listening and laughing, as if the course of the Euphrosyne, her quick sailing, and the adventures of her crew, were the only subjects of interest in the world. He was only at home for a week, but so much the worse, that would be till the end of Beatrice’s own visit, and she supposed it would be nothing but Euphrosyne the whole time.