uquet on the
mat, and saved the situation by putting the flowers in water, and
thanking the Professor with somewhat more hilarity than the ordinary
presentation of a bouquet would have called forth.

But to return to the second day. The Boy arrived in flannels, and tea
was a merry meal. The Boy wanted particulars concerning the marriage,
which had taken place a year or so before, between Martha--maid of
thirty years' standing, now acting as cook-housekeeper to Miss
Charteris--and Jenkins, the butler. The Boy wanted to know which
proposed, Jenkins or Martha; in what terms they announced the fact of
their engagement, to Miss Charteris; whether Jenkins ever "bucked up
and looked like a bridegroom," and whether Martha wore orange-blossom
and a wedding veil. He extorted the admission that Christobel had been
present at the wedding, and insisted on a detailed account; over which,
when given at last, he slapped his knee so often, and went into such
peals of laughter, that Miss Charteris glanced anxiously towards the
kitchen and pantry windows, which unfortunately looked out on the
garden.

The Boy expatiated on his enthusiastic admiration for Martha; but at
the same time was jolly well certain he would have bolted when it came
to "I, Martha, take thee, Jenkins," had he stood in the latter's shoes.
Miss Charteris did not dare admit, that as a matter of fact the
sentence had been: "I, Martha, take thee, Noah." That the meek Jenkins
should possess so historical and patriarchal a name, would completely
have finished the Boy, who was already taking considerable risks by
combining much laughter with an unusually large number of explosive
buns.

The Boy would have it, that, excepting in the role of bride and
subsequent conjugal owner and disciplinarian, Martha was perfect.

Miss Charteris admitted Martha's unrivalled excellence as a cook, her
economy in management, and fidelity of heart. But Martha had a temper.
Also, though undoubtedly a superficial fault, yet trying to the
artistic eye of Miss Charteris, Martha's hair was apt to be dishevelled
and untidy.

"It _is_ a bit wispy," admitted the Boy, reluctantly. "Why don't you
tell her so?"

Miss Charteris smiled. "Boy dear, I daren't! It would be as much as
my place is worth, to make a personal observation to Martha!"

"I'll tell her for you, if you like," said the Boy, coolly.

"If you do," warned Miss Charteris, "it will be the very last remark
you will ever mak