He angrily stiffened himself up into coldness of demeanour. Almost

to his surprise, Sylvia's greeting to the new comer was as cold as

his own. She stood rather behind him; so perhaps she did not see the

hand which Kinraid stretched out towards her, for she did not place

her own little palm in it, as she had done to Philip an hour ago.

And she hardly spoke, but began to pore over the rough black map, as

if seized with strong geographical curiosity, or determined to

impress Philip's lesson deep on her memory.

Still Philip was dismayed by seeing the warm welcome which Kinraid

received from the master of the house, who came in from the back

premises almost at the same time as the specksioneer entered at the

front. Hepburn was uneasy, too, at finding Kinraid take his seat by

the fireside, like one accustomed to the ways of the house. Pipes

were soon produced. Philip disliked smoking. Possibly Kinraid did so

too, but he took a pipe at any rate, and lighted it, though he

hardly used it at all, but kept talking to farmer Robson on sea

affairs. He had the conversation pretty much to himself. Philip sat

gloomily by; Sylvia and his aunt were silent, and old Robson smoked

his long clay pipe, from time to time taking it out of his mouth to

spit into the bright copper spittoon, and to shake the white ashes

out of the bowl. Before he replaced it, he would give a short laugh

of relishing interest in Kinraid's conversation; and now and then he

put in a remark. Sylvia perched herself sideways on the end of the

dresser, and made pretence to sew; but Philip could see how often

she paused in her work to listen.

By-and-by, his aunt spoke to him, and they kept up a little side

conversation, more because Bell Robson felt that her nephew, her own

flesh and blood, was put out, than for any special interest they

either of them felt in what they were saying. Perhaps, also, they

neither of them disliked showing that they had no great faith in the

stories Kinraid was telling. Mrs. Robson, at any rate, knew so little

as to be afraid of believing too much.

Philip was sitting on that side of the fire which was nearest to the

window and to Sylvia, and opposite to the specksioneer. At length he

turned to his cousin and said in a low voice-'I suppose we can't go on with our spell at geography till that

fellow's gone?' The colour came into Sylvia's cheek at the words 'that fellow'; but

she only replied with a careless air-'Well, I'm one as thinks enough is as good as a feast; and I've had

enough of geography this one night, thank you kindly all the same.' Philip took refuge in offended silence. He was maliciously pleased

when his aunt made so much noise with her preparation for supper as

quite to prevent the sound of the sailor's words from reaching

Sylvia's ears. She saw that he was glad to perceive that her efforts

to reach the remainder of the story were baulked! this nettled her,

and, determined not to let him have his malicious triumph, and still

more to put a stop to any attempt at private conversation, she began

to sing to herself as she sat at her work; till, suddenly seized

with a desire to help her mother, she dexterously slipped down from

her seat, passed Hepburn, and was on her knees toasting cakes right

in front of the fire, and just close to her father and Kinraid. And

now the noise that Hepburn had so rejoiced in proved his foe. He

could not hear the little merry speeches that darted backwards and

forwards as the specksioneer tried to take the toasting-fork out of

Sylvia's hand.




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