g as she is, she has very little
character, while Cicely _has_ character. No, sister, Cicely is a
Clinton--a Clinton through and through."
CHAPTER V
MELBURY PARK
Family prayers at Kencote took place at nine o'clock, breakfast
nominally at a quarter past, though there was no greater interval
between the satisfaction of the needs of the soul and those of the body
than was necessary to enable the long string of servants to file out
from their seats under the wall, and the footmen to return immediately
with the hot dishes. The men sat nearest to the door and frequently
pushed back to the dining-room against the last of the outflowing tide;
for the Squire was ready for his breakfast the moment he had closed the
book from which he had read the petition appointed for the day. If there
was any undue delay he never failed to speak about it at once. This
promptness and certainty in rebuke, when rebuke was necessary, made him
a well-served man, both indoors and out.
Punctuality was rigidly observed by the Clinton family. It had to be;
especially where the women were concerned. If Dick or Humphrey, when
they were at home, missed prayers, the omission was alluded to. If
Cicely, or even Mrs. Clinton was late, the Squire spoke about it. This
was more serious. In the case of the boys the rebuke hardly amounted to
speaking about it. As for the twins, they were never late. For one thing
their abounding physical energy made them anything but lie-abeds, and
for another, they were so harried during the ten minutes before the gong
sounded by Miss Bird that there would have been no chance of their
overlooking the hour. If they had been late, Miss Bird would have been
spoken to, and on the distressing occasions when that had happened, it
had put her, as she said, all in a twitter.
When it still wanted a few minutes to the hour on the morning after the
return from London, Cicely was standing by one of the big open windows
talking to Miss Bird, the twins were on the broad gravel path
immediately outside, and two footmen were putting the finishing touches
to the appointments of the table.
It was a big table, although now reduced to the smallest dimensions of
which it was capable, for the use of the six people who were to occupy
it. But in that great room it was like an island in the midst of a waste
of Turkey carpet. The sideboards, dinner-wagon, and carving-table, and
the long row of chairs against the wall opposite to the t
|