That lady bowed cordially to her host and touched the rim of her glass lightly with her lips. It is not now customary for gentlemen to drink healths with the opposite sex at dinner, but 'tis an old-fashioned custom, and therefore found favour with the vicar, lover of all things antique, as he was.
"A most excellent sentiment, Tobias," said his father, with a waggish smile; "but we are not all so happily placed as you, my son."
"True! true! most true. 'Et ego in Arcadia fui.' Eh, Mr. Gelthrip?"
"I am not married, sir," responded that gentleman, stiffly.
"Nor is he likely to be," whispered Archie to his neighbour. "How lucky--for the possible Mrs. Gelthrip."
"I'm not so sure of that," she replied in the same tone; "every Jack has his Jill."
"How can I be certain? You do not wear your heart on your sleeve."
Kaituna was somewhat taken aback at this direct way of putting it, and, not feeling inclined to reply in the only way in which she could do so, looked round for a mode of escape from the pertinacity of her companion. Help came from the vicar.
"Miss Pethram, I understand your father is coming home again."
"Yes, Mr. Clendon; I am pleased to say he is."
"Ah, no doubt! no doubt! Well, I can tell him you have been in safe hands," responded the vicar, bowing to Mrs. Belswin, who acknowledged the compliment with a somewhat doubtful smile.
"You have never seen Sir Rupert?" asked Toby, politely.
Mrs. Belswin started, drew her handkerchief--a flimsy feminine thing of lace and cambric--across her dry lips, and laughed in an embarrassed fashion as she replied--
"No, I have not seen him; but, of course, Kaituna has told me all about him."
"Ah!" said the vicar, eyeing the rosy bubbles flashing in his glass, "I remember Rupert Pethram very well before he went out to New Zealand. He was a gay, light-hearted boy; but now, alas! tempora mutantur et nos mutamur in illis."
"I can't fancy my father ever having been gay and light-hearted," cried Kaituna, doubtfully. "Ever since I can remember him he has been so grave and solemn."
"Trouble! trouble!" sighed the vicar; "it changes us all."
Mrs. Belswin, affecting to arrange the wreath at her breast, darted a lightning glance at the old man from under her long lashes.