Du Meresq darted a searching glance at the man, who looked as stolid as
the Serjeant in 'Our's.' No one could have guessed he was thinking what
a _piquante_ anecdote it would be to relate to his inamorata, the cook,
over their supper-beer. Bertie gave a laughing but relieved glance at
his neighbour, whose eyes were fixed on her plate. They both began
simultaneously talking louder, with an exaggerated openness, on general
topics. Mrs. Rolleston joined in.

"You must stay over the sleighing-party, Bertie."

"I hate driving a hired sleigh," said he. "I wish I could get mine up;
but the Grand Trunk would be sure to deliver it the day after the fair."

"But you have your musk-ox robes here; they would dress up the shabbiest
sleigh. I only saw one set like them on New Year's Day, when we had at
least sixty sleighs up here."

"How did you enjoy that celebration?"

"I think," said Cecil, "it is rather tiresome for ladies to have to stay
in all day and receive, while the gentlemen go out calling. We had a
spread, of course--luncheon, tea, coffee, everything. One man, who had a
large acquaintance, came before breakfast, and they were rushing in all
day. It would have been well enough if they were not in such a hurry; but
they just swallowed a glass of wine, and the burden of all their remarks
was, 'I have been to a dozen places already, and have about thirty or
forty more to do.'"

"Could not you two young ladies make them linger over smiles and wine?"