I thought it would have come to a quarrel. The Squire maintained his
view and Coralie maintained hers. They talked at each other daily,
neither giving way.
Christmas-Day was approaching, and it had pleased Miss Fontaine to
project a sumptuous dinner for it, to be given at Oxlip Grange to all
her special friends. The Squire protested he never heard of anything so
unreasonable. He did not dine out of his own house on Christmas-Day, and
she must come to Crabb Cot.
The third week in December had set in, when one evening, as we rose from
table, the Squire impulsively declared he would go and finally have it
out with her.
Meaning Coralie. Settling himself into his great-coat, he called to me
to go after him. In the Islip Road we overtook Cole, walking fast also.
He had been sent for to the baby at North Villa, he said; and we left
him at the gate.
Coralie was in her favourite little parlour, reading by lamplight. The
Squire sat down by the fire in a flutter, and began remonstrating about
the Christmas dinner. Coralie only laughed.
"It is unreasonable, dear Mr. Todhetley, even to propose our going to
you. Think of the number! I wish to have everybody. The Archdeacon and
his wife, and Dr. Rymer, and Mrs. Cramp, and the Letsoms, and Tom
Chandler and Emma, and of course, her father, old Mr. Paul, as he is
some relation of mine, and---- Why, that's a carriage driving up! I
wonder who has come to-night?"
Another minute, and old Ozias rushed in with a beaming face, hardly able
to get his words out for excitement.
"Oh, Missee, Missee, it Massa George; come all over wide seas from
home,"--and there entered a fine man with a frank and handsome
face--George Bazalgette.
"Where's Verena?" he exclaimed, after kissing Coralie and shaking hands
genially with the Squire, though they had never met before.