Sylvia's Lovers

'They're a'most stawed,' said Mrs. Corney, with a pleased smile.

'It'll be manners t' ask some one as knows how to sing.' 'It may be manners for full men, but not for fasting,' replied

Brunton. 'Folks in t' next room will be wanting their victual, and

singing is allays out o' tune to empty bellies.' 'But there's them here as 'll take it ill if they're not asked. I

heerd Josiah Pratt a-clearing his throat not a minute ago, an' he

thinks as much on his singin' as a cock does on his crowin'.' 'If one sings I'm afeard all on 'em will like to hear their own

pipes.' But their dilemma was solved by Bessy Corney, who opened the door to

see if the hungry ones outside might not come in for their share of

the entertainment; and in they rushed, bright and riotous, scarcely

giving the first party time to rise from their seats ere they took

their places. One or two young men, released from all their previous

shyness, helped Mrs. Corney and her daughters to carry off such

dishes as were actually empty. There was no time for changing or

washing of plates; but then, as Mrs. Corney laughingly observed,-'We're a' on us friends, and some on us mayhap sweethearts; so no

need to be particular about plates. Them as gets clean ones is

lucky; and them as doesn't, and cannot put up wi' plates that has

been used, mun go without.' It seemed to be Philip's luck this night to be pent up in places;

for again the space between the benches and the wall was filled up

by the in-rush before he had time to make his way out; and all he

could do was to sit quiet where he was. But between the busy heads

and over-reaching arms he could see Charley and Sylvia, sitting

close together, talking and listening more than eating. She was in a

new strange state of happiness not to be reasoned about, or

accounted for, but in a state of more exquisite feeling than she had

ever experienced before; when, suddenly lifting her eyes, she caught

Philip's face of extreme displeasure.

'Oh,' said she, 'I must go. There's Philip looking at me so.' 'Philip!' said Kinraid, with a sudden frown upon his face.

'My cousin,' she replied, instinctively comprehending what had

flashed into his mind, and anxious to disclaim the suspicion of

having a lover. 'Mother told him to see me home, and he's noan one

for staying up late.' 'But you needn't go. I'll see yo' home.' 'Mother's but ailing,' said Sylvia, a little conscience-smitten at

having so entirely forgotten everything in the delight of the

present, 'and I said I wouldn't be late.' 'And do you allays keep to your word?' asked he, with a tender

meaning in his tone.