“The mischief's done already; I heard the governor say, as he took leave,--'Captain Craufurd, are you too strait-laced to dine out on a Sunday? if not, will you honor us with your company at eight o'clock?' And though he repeated the words 'eight o'clock' with a groan like a protest, he muttered something about being happy, a phrase that evidently cost him dearly, for he went shuffling down the avenue afterwards with his hat over his eyes, and gesticulating with his hands as if some new immorality had suddenly broke in upon his mind.” “You mean to say that he is coming to dinner here next Sunday?” asked Temple, horrified. “A little tact and good management are always sufficient to keep these sort of men down,” said Augustus. “I hope we don't ask a man to dinner with the intention to 'keep him down,'” said Jack, sturdily. “At all events,” cried Temple, “he need not be presented to Lord Culduff.” “I suspect you will see very little of him after dinner,” observed Harding, in his meek fashion, “That wonderful '32 port will prove a detainer impossible to get away from.” “I 'll keep him company, then. I rather like to meet one of those cross-grained dogs occasionally.” “Not impossibly you'll learn something more of that same 'public opinion' of our neighbors regarding us,” said Marion, haughtily. “With all my heart,” cried the sailor, gayly; “they 'll not ruffle my temper, even if they won't flatter my vanity.” “Have you asked the L'Estranges, Marion?” said Augustus. “We always ask them after church; they are sure to be disengaged,” said she. “I wish, Nelly, that you, who are such a dear friend of Julia's, would try and persuade her to wear something else than that eternal black silk. She is so intently bent on being an Andalusian. Some one unluckily said she looked so Spanish, that she has got up the dress, and the little fan coquetry, and the rest of it, in the most absurd fashion.” “Her grandmother was a Spaniard,” broke in Nelly, warmly. “So they say,” said the other, with a shrug of the shoulders. “There's a good deal of style about her,” said Temple, with the tone of one who was criticising what he understood. “She sings prettily.” “Prettily?” groaned Jack. “Why, where, except amongst professionals, did you ever hear her equal?” “She sings divinely,” said Ellen; “and it is, after all, one of her least attractions.” “No heroics, for Heaven's sake; leave that to your brothers, Nelly, who are fully equal to it. I really meant my remark about her gown for good nature.” “She's a nice girl,” said Augustus, “though she is certainly a bit of a coquette.”