While the family still lingered over the meal one warm September morning, as if loth to make further exertion in the growing heat, the Sound of a knocker was heard, and a moment later the coloured maid returned and announced:-- "Marse Hennion want see Marse Meredith." "Bring him in here, Peg," said Mr. Meredith. "Like as not the lad 's not breakfasted." Janice hunched her shoulders and remarked, "Never fear that Master Hennion is not hungry. He is like the roaring lion, who 'walketh about seeking whom he may devour.'" "Black shame on thee, Janice Meredith, for applying the Holy Word to carnal things," cried her mother. "Then let me read novels," muttered Miss Meredith, but so indistinctly as not to be understood. "Be still, child!" commanded her mother. "And listen to Philemon glub-glub-bing over his victuals?" "Philemon is no pig," declared Mrs. Meredith. "No," assented Janice. "He 's too old for that,"--a remark which set Mr. Meredith off into an uproarious haw-haw. "Lambert," protested his wife, "I lose patience with thee for encouraging this stiff-necked and wayward girl, when she should be thankful that Providence has made one man who wants so saucy a Miss Prat-a-pace for a wife." Miss Meredith, evidently encouraged by her father's humour, made a mouth, and droned in a sing-song voice: "'What doth every sin deserve? Every sin deserveth God's wrath and curse, both in this life and that which is to come.'" Such a desecration of the Westminster Assembly of Divines' "Shorter Catechism" would doubtless have produced further and severer reproof from Mrs. Meredith, but the censure was prevented by the clump of heavy boots, followed by the entrance of an over-tall, loosely-built fellow of about eighteen years, whose clothes rather hung about than fitted him. "Your servant, marms," was his greeting, as he struggled to make a bow. "Your servant, squire. Mr. Hitchins, down ter Trenton, where I went yestere'en with a bale of shearings, asked me ter come araound your way with a letter an' a bond-servant that come ter him on a hay-sloop from Philadelphia. So--" "Having nothing better to do, you came?" interrupted Janice, with a gravely courteous manner. "That 's it, Miss Janice; I'm obleeged ter you for sayin' it better nor I could," said the young fellow, gratefully, while manifestly straining to get a letter from his pocket. "Hast breakfasted, Phil?" asked the squire. Producing the letter with terrible effort, and handing it to Mr. Meredith, Hennion began, "As for that--" Here Janice interrupted by saying, "You breakfasted in Trenton--what a pity!" "Janice!" snapped her mother, warningly. "Cease thy clack and set a chair for Philemon this instant."