Priscilla laughed loudly to cover the surprise she felt.

"What for? Lor, Mister Jocelyn, if you don't know I'm sure I
don't! For the beef and potatoes, I suppose, an' all the stuff we
eats--'for what we are going to receive--'"

"Ah, yes! I remember--'May the Lord make us truly thankful!'"
responded Jocelyn, closing his eyes for a second and then opening
them again--"And I'll tell you what, Priscilla!--there's a deal
more to be thankful for to-night than beef and potatoes!--a great
deal more!"




CHAPTER VII

The supper was a very silent meal. Old Hugo was evidently not
inclined to converse,--he ate his food quickly, almost ravenously,
without seeming to be conscious that he was eating. Robin Clifford
glanced at him now and again watchfully, and with some anxiety,--
an uncomfortable idea that there was something wrong somewhere
worried him,--moreover he was troubled by the latent feeling that
presently his uncle would be sure to ask if all was "settled"
between himself and Innocent. Strangely enough, however, the old
man made no allusion to the subject. He seemed to have forgotten
it, though it had been the chief matter on which he had laid so
much stress that morning. Each minute Innocent expected him to
turn upon her with the dreaded question--to which she would have