The breakfast bell roused them from
a momentary silence, but the shadow of this mysterious bruise seemed
to follow them even to the table. Herbert and Eva, aged respectively
ten and twelve, had that superabundant love of information so
characteristic of their tender years. They sat in round-eyed silence,
bringing the battery of their glances to bear upon their unfortunate
brother, who at last could endure it no longer.
"Upon my life!" he exclaimed, "one would think I was the
governor-general, or some wild animal in a menagerie, to become the
object of so much concentrated and distinguished attention."
"Which would you say he was, Eva?" asked Herbert.
"Which what?" inquired that young lady.
"Sir Peregrine Maitland, or a wild animal?"
"Oh, Sir Peregrine, of course. See what a lofty, scornful way he has
of looking at us. And yet he is not really proud; he is willing to sit
down with us at our humble board, just as though he was a common
person."
"Children!" said Rose with soft reproach, but her voice trembled, and
the imps were subjugated only outwardly.
"Anything particular going on in Barrie?" queried the Commodore,
turning to his eldest son.
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