"grand' onore."

Marietta placed a row of chairs before the raised stone hearth,
and afterwards, at her master's request, busied herself
preparing tea.

"But I think you would all be wise to take a little brandy
first," Peter suggested. "It is my despair that I am not able
to provide you with a change of raiment. Brandy will be the
best substitute, perhaps."

The old priest laughed, and put his hand upon the shoulder of
Emilia.

"You have spared this young lady an embarrassing avowal.
Brandy is exactly what she was screwing her courage to the
point of asking for."

"Oh, no!" protested Emilia, in a deep Italian voice, with
passionate seriousness.

But Peter fetched a decanter, and poured brandy for everyone.

"I drink to your health--c'est bien le cas de le dire. I hope
you will not have caught your deaths of cold," he said.

"Oh, we are quite warm now," said the Duchessa. "We are snug
in an ingle on Mount Ararat."

"Our wetting will have done us good--it will make us grow. You