"We sup at nine o'clock, sir," she said, "we dine at one, and take tea at five. Thus it is to the first of these meals that I would bid you welcome, as it is close upon eight o'clock now. Will you follow me to your room?--which I hope you will find comfortable." "I am sure I shall," said Mr. Arundel, warmly. "It is very good of you, madam, to invite me to Fair Acres." These few words had passed in the hall; and the tap of Piers' crutches was heard approaching, while Nip and Pip came bustling about the new-comers, their short tails vibrating as if they were screwed on with a wire! "This is our youngest child, sir--Piers," Mrs. Falconer said. "Where is Joyce, mother?" Piers asked. "Your sister is behind; our chaise passed her close to the gate." "Why did not you come with her?" Piers asked, bluntly. "Because I was not allowed to do so," Mr. Arundel said, good-temperedly. "I can tell you what you will be glad to hear, that your sister did not forget your sparrow-hawk." Melville, who had after all been wrangling with the postboy about his gratuity in a somewhat undignified manner, now came into the hall as his father and Joyce appeared from a door under the wide staircase. "Well," said the squire, "you seem holding a counsel here; I hope it is peace, not war. Come, Melville, show your friend to his room." Considering how greatly the squire had been annoyed by his son's driving out in the post-chaise, he spoke kindly and pleasantly; but Melville was already assuming his grand airs. "Here, Arundel," he said, "I will take you to your room: first door on the left, I suppose?" "You will allow me to do as I have done all my life, Melville," said his mother. "I always go with my guests to their chambers, to see they are comfortable. Now, Mr. A_run_del." To Melville's horror, his mother put the accent on the second syllable. And as she tripped away--for her figure was still light and supple--he whispered: "He won't know who she means. Tell her, pray, not to say A_run_del." Joyce was indignant about the proceedings of the whole day, and she said: "If you think it becoming to correct your mother, do it yourself." Then, going up to her father, she put her hand through his arm. "Come and see the last brood of chickens with me and Piers. They are lovely, dear dad." Melville turned away with a satirical smile on his lips, thinking it was impossible to do anything with Joyce: she was content to let things remain as they were. Meantime his friend was conducted to the "best room" Mrs. Falconer had to offer--a spacious square room, with a large four-post bed, hung with white dimity, and so high that a pair of steps by which to climb into it did not seem out of place. The window was rather small for the size of the room, and the frames thick, but roses and honeysuckle hung their wreaths round it and perfumed the air.