Well, ladies, said Mr Canninge, shall we adjourn to the tent?
Did you think of going in? said Beatrice.
To be sure, he said gaily. I am going to help.
Going to help! said Miss Lambent.
To be sure: I promised Mr Burge. Let me take you in. Miss Lambent.
Rebecca took a long breath and the squires arm. She liked it, but she knew that Beatrice would be out of temper for hours after.
There was no cause for temper, though for the squire, as he was always called in the neighbourhood, had no sooner led the elder Miss Lambent within the canvas walls, then he coolly forsook her, and went and placed himself behind a great sirloin of beef at one end of the girls table, facing Mr William Forth Burge, who had the twin joint before him, over which his round red face was smiling pleasantly. The vicar had gone to one end of the boys table, the master being at the other, while several of the principal tradesmen took their places in front of other joints.
Now, boys and girls, cried the host, are you all ready?
The chorus of yes! was startling.
Then silence for grace, roared the host; and then, rapidly, What were going to receive make us truly thankful. Amen. Lots of plates here!
Before he finished, his great carving-knife was playing a tune in that skilful way peculiar to butchers, upon a silver-mounted steel, while the vicar looked aghast and George Canninge stooped down to hide a smile.
It was quite an insult when the vicar was present but in the innocency of his heart, Mr William Forth Burge was hoping the joints were done, and eager to begin.
Now, gentlemen, carve away, please, he shouted. Other ladies and gentlemen and servants, please pass the plates and taters. I want the youngsters to have a good dinner to-day. Now, Thomas, he cried to his coachman, who had just set down a pile of plates, you lay hold of that that spoon, and do nothing but ladle out gravy to every plate.
As he spoke, he was slicing off in the most skilful way prime sirloin of beef, and, smiling with delight, he said that it was done to a turn, as he called it.
I chose every joint myself, he said to one. Pass the plates quick. See that they have plenty of taters, ladies. Eat away, girls.
The visitors, after a few moments awkward hesitation, turned themselves into waiters, and the carvers had a tremendous time, for quite two hundred hearty girls and boys were eating with all the enjoyment of their young healthy appetites.
More! Thats right! cried the young squire. I beg your pardon, Miss I really dont know your name; Im afraid Ive splashed your dress.
Pray dont mention it, said Hazel quietly, for she had been busily handing plates, looking brighter and happier than she had appeared for months.
Im quite envious of our host, said Canninge the next time Hazel brought a plate. He carves beautifully, and Ive hacked my joint to pieces.
Send your knife up here, Mr Canninge, roared Mr W.F.B. from the other end of the table. Ill give it a touch on my steel.
Will you allow me? said Hazel, who was the only waiter near.
No, really, I could not think of Well, if you will
There.
He had paused to wipe the rather greasy handle upon his white handkerchief, and then, in passing the knife, their hands just touched a mere touch, and Hazel had gone.
The meat had disappeared, the puddings and pies had followed, and, turned waiter now, the young squire had merrily passed along the plates, till the time for rising had nearly arrived, when accident once more placed him beside Hazel.
Your girls have thoroughly enjoyed themselves, Miss Thorne, he said, for he had learned her name now from one of the elder children Feelier Potts, to wit.
Oh, most thoroughly, said Hazel, smiling brightly and with genuine pleasure. It is delightful to see them so happy.
Do you see that Beatrice? whispered Miss Lambent from the other end of the tent.
Yes.
Grace next I suppose? Oh, there is my mother beckoning to me, Miss Thorne, said the squire hastily, it is a pity to have so pleasant an affair spoiled. Would you mind hinting to Mr Burge that he should ask the vicar to say grace!
Oh, yes, I will, said Hazel, nodding to him.
As if he were her equal, said Miss Lambent indignantly; while, hurrying to the end of the table. Hazel was just in time to whisper to the host.
Why, of course, he said. What a stupid! Thank you. Miss Thorne. Mr Lambent! he cried aloud, would you be kind enough to say grace?
Out in the field then, with the sun shining, the band playing, and plenty of enjoyment for the schools, which were separated by a rope stretched from one end to the other. Races were run for prizes of all kinds, and, full of animation, while the vicar stood with his hands behind him patronisingly looking on, the young squire was the life and soul of the affair, and ready with a dozen fresh ideas to suggest to the host. There were prizes for the fastest runners, prizes for the slowest, for the first in and the last in, for jumps and hops, and the best singers, and the worst singers, scramblings, blindfold-walking, sports galore.