as the rest of us, I dare say.'

'Speak for yourself,' said the wife. 'I don't suppose you mean to tell
me that in the eyes of the Creator he is as good a man as Augustus.'

'Augustus be ----.' The word was spoken with great energy. Mrs.
Babington at the moment was employed in sewing a button on the
wristband of her husband's shirt, and in the start which she gave stuck
the needle into his arm.

'Humphrey!' exclaimed the agitated lady.

'I beg your pardon, but not his,' said the squire, rubbing the wound.
'If he says a word more about John Caldigate in my presence, I shall
tell him what I think about it. He has got his wife, and that ought to
be enough for him.'

After that they went down-stairs and dinner was at once announced.
There was Mr. Smirkie to give an arm to his mother-in-law. The squire
took his married daughter while the other two followed. As they crossed
the hall Julia whispered her cousin's name, but her father bade her be
silent for the present. 'I was sure it was not true,' said Mrs.
Smirkie.

'Then you're quite wrong,' said the squire, 'for it's as true as the
Gospel.' Then there was no more said about John Caldigate till the
servants had left the room.

Mr. Smirkie's general appreciation of the good things provided, did not
on this occasion give the owner of them that gratification which a host
should feel in the pleasures of his guests. He ate a very good dinner
and took his wine with a full appreciation of its merits. Such an
appetite on the part of his friends was generally much esteemed by the
squire of Babington, who was apt to press the bottle upon those who sat
with him, in the old-fashioned manner. At the present moment he eyed his
son-in-law's enjoyments with a feeling akin to disappointment. There was
a habit at Babington with the ladies of sitting with the squire when he
was the only man present till he had finished his wine, and, at Mrs.
Smirkie's instance, this custom was continued when she and her husband
were at the house. Fires had been commenced, and when the dinner-things
had been taken away they clustered round the hearth. The squire himself
sat silent in his place, out of humour, knowing that the peculiar
subject would be introduced, and determined to make himself
disagreeable.

'Papa, won't you bring your chair round?' said one of the girls who was
next to him. Whereupon he did move his chair an inch or two.

'Did you hear anything about John?' said the other unmarried