“I was thinking, Tom, that it might be as well if you 'd go down and ask Dr. Mills to come to tea. It would take off some of the awkwardness of our receiving two strangers.” “But they 're not strangers, Lucy; not a bit of it. I call him Trafford, and he calls me Lendrick; and the old cove is the most familiar old fellow I ever met.” “Have you said anything to Nicholas yet?” asked she, in some eagerness. “No; and that's exactly what I want you to do for me. That old bear bullies us all, so that I can't trust myself to speak to him.” “Well, don't go away, and I'll send for him now;” and she rang the bell as she spoke. A smart-looking lad answered the summons, to whom she said, “Tell Nicholas I want him.” “Take my advice, Lucy, and merely say there are two gentlemen coming to tea this evening; don't let the old villain think you are consulting him about it, or asking his advice.” “I must do it my own way,” said she; “only don't interrupt. Don't meddle,--mind that, Tom.” The door opened, and a very short, thick-set old man, dressed in a black coat and waistcoat, and drab breeches and white stockings, with large shoe-buckles in his shoes, entered. His face was large and red, the mouth immensely wide, and the eyes far set from each other, his low forehead being shadowed by a wig of coarse red hair, which moved when he spoke, and seemed almost to possess a sort of independent vitality. He had been reading when he was summoned, and his spectacles had been pushed up over his forehead, while he still held the county paper in his hand,--a sort of proud protest against being disturbed. “You heard that Miss Lucy sent for you?” said Tom Lendrick, haughtily, as his eye fell upon the newspaper. “I did,” was the curt answer, as the old fellow, with a nervous shake of the head, seemed to announce that he was ready for battle. “What I wanted, Nicholas, was this,” interposed the girl, in a voice of very winning sweetness; “Mr. Tom has invited two gentlemen this evening to tea.” “To tay!” cried Nicholas, as if the fact staggered all credulity. “Yes, to tea; and I was thinking if you would go down to the town and get some biscuits, or a sponge-cake, perhaps--whatever, indeed, you thought best; and also beg Dr. Mills to step in, saying that as papa was away--” “That you was going to give a ball?” “No. Not exactly that, Nicholas,” said she, smiling; “but that two friends of my brother's--” “And where did he meet his friends?” cried he, with a marked emphasis on the “friends.” “Two strangers. God knows who or what! Poachers as like as anything else. The ould one might be worse.” “Enough of this,” said Tom, sternly. “Are you the master here? Go off, sir, and do what Miss Lucy has ordered you.”