mother-in-law said, while his eyes sought Edith, who was busying
herself in rearranging the tea-table, and ordering up all sorts
of good things, in spite of his assurances that he had dined
within the last two hours.

Mr. Henry Lennox stood leaning against the chimney-piece, amused
with the family scene. He was close by his handsome brother; he
was the plain one in a singularly good-looking family; but his
face was intelligent, keen, and mobile; and now and then Margaret
wondered what it was that he could be thinking about, while he
kept silence, but was evidently observing, with an interest that
was slightly sarcastic, all that Edith and she were doing. The
sarcastic feeling was called out by Mrs. Shaw's conversation with
his brother; it was separate from the interest which was excited
by what he saw. He thought it a pretty sight to see the two
cousins so busy in their little arrangements about the table.
Edith chose to do most herself. She was in a humour to enjoy
showing her lover how well she could behave as a soldier's wife.
She found out that the water in the urn was cold, and ordered up
the great kitchen tea-kettle; the only consequence of which was
that when she met it at the door, and tried to carry it in, it
was too heavy for her, and she came in pouting, with a black mark
on her muslin gown, and a little round white hand indented by the
handle, which she took to show to Captain Lennox, just like a
hurt child, and, of course, the remedy was the same in both
cases. Margaret's quickly-adjusted spirit-lamp was the most
efficacious contrivance, though not so like the gypsy-encampment
which Edith, in some of her moods, chose to consider the nearest
resemblance to a barrack-life. After this evening all was bustle
till the wedding was over.