"owld shod," under Mr. Terry's proud guidance. But
the great doctors said Mrs. Coristine must take her husband away to the
south of France, to the Riviera, perhaps even to Algeria, for the
winter. Mr. Douglas, who was like a brother, saw them safely established
at Mentone, and returned to England in time to see the Flanders' five on
board their steamer at Liverpool, laden with presents for the children
and the servants, the Thomases and the Perrownes, not forgetting Mr.
Bigglethorpe and Mr. Bangs. Three more months of winter passed at
Bridesdale, then the brief spring, and at length summer came round in
all its glory. Timotheus and his men had cleared the encampment of its
scorched trees, had put many acres into crop, and had built the farm
house on the site of the burnt buildings, into which he and his blooming
wife had moved, because the Wilkinsons and the Mortons were coming to
the chalet in July. The Bridesdale people heard that the former dominie
had not been idle, but, by means of his geological knowledge, had
discovered iron and lead mines, which were already yielding him a
revenue. Mrs. Errol brought them a letter from Marjorie, saying that
Eugene was quite restored, and that they would be home early in July,
bringing that dear old lady, Eugene's mother, with them. Correspondence
had also been going on between the Wilkinsons and the Coristines on both
sides of the houses, and Mr. Terry seemed to be included in the circle.
One fine July morning he asked for the loan of the waggonette and set
off to town, whence he returned in the afternoon, with three ladies and
a coloured ladies' maid, attended by a gentleman and his servant on
horseback. Strange to say, the Errols, the Perrownes, the newly-married
Bangs, and Mr. Bigglethorpe, were at Bridesdale. Marjorie's terrier, a
new Muggins given her by Mr. Perrowne, but which she called Guff, ran
barking to meet the approaching party, and the animal's mistress,
following it, was soon in the arms of long absent friends. "Where is
Eugene?" she cried, in a tone of disappointment. "Where is Mr.
Wilkinson?" asked Mrs. Carruthers, in concern. "We have lost them for a
little while," replied the ladies, cheerfully. So they changed their
things, unpacked their trunks, dispensed many gifts, brought through all
sorts of custom houses, and assembled in the drawing-room to await the
stated six o'clock tea. The clock was on the stroke, when they all heard
singing, on the road, of two mal