“’Tis the hoighth av impartance to have a good name, say Oi,” added Mr. Terry.  “Moy fayther, glory be to his sowl, put a shaint’s name an me, an’ I put her own mother’s name, the Howly Vargin rist her, on Honoria here.  ‘An’, savin’ all yer prisinces, there’s no foiner Scripcher name than John; how’s that, Squoire?”

“It suits me well enough, grandfather,” replied Carruthers.  The Captain was feeling uneasy.  He didn’t want Ezekiel to come out, so he asked Miss Du Plessis how her young man was.  Such a question would have either roused Miss Carmichael to indignation or have overwhelmed her with confusion, but Miss Du Plessis, calm and unruffled, replied:  “I suppose you mean Mr. Wilkinson, Captain Thomas.  He has been very much shaken by his wound, but is doing remarkably well.”

“Fwhat’s Mishter Wilkison’s name, Miss Ceshile, iv it’s a fair quishtyon to ax at yeez?”

“It is Farquhar, is it not, Mr. Coristine?”

Mr. Coristine said it was, and that it was his mother’s maiden name.  She was a Scotchwoman, he had heard, and a very lovely character.  The colonel had just returned from his ministrations.  “Did I heah you cohhectly, Mr. Cohistine, when I thought you said that ouah deah young wounded friend’s mothah’s name was Fahquhah, suh?”

“You did, Colonel Morton.”

“And of Scottish pahentage?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know if any of her relatives were engaged in the Civil Wahah, our civil wahah?”

“I believe her brother Roderic ran the blockade, and fought for the South, where he fell, in a cavalry regiment.”

“Be pleased, suh, to say that again.  Rodehic Fahquhah, do you say?”

“His full name, I have seen it among Wilkinson’s papers, was Roderic Macdonald Farquhar.”

“Tehesa, my deah,” said the colonel, his voice and manner full of emotion, as he turned towards his sister-in-law, “you have heard me mention my bosom friend, Captain Fahquhah?”

“Yes, indeed, many times,” replied the lady addressed.

“And ouah deah boy upstairs, the pehsehveh of my pooah life, is his nephew, his sistah’s son.  I was suah there was something drawing me to him.  I shall make that brave boy my heih, my pooah deah comhade Fahquhah’s nephew.  What a fohtunate discovehy.  Kindly excuse me, madam, and you my deah ladies, and you Squiah; I must go and tell my deah boy.”  So the colonel bowed to Mrs. Carruthers, and went out, with his handkerchief up to his face.

After the colonel left the table, the Captain looked over at his niece, saying:  “Too late, Marjorie, my lass, too late!  Didn’t play your cards right, so you’re cut out.  Shifted his sheet anchor to the t’other bow, Marjorie.”

Miss Carmichael was annoyed with good reason, and, in order to put a stop to such uncalled for and vulgar remarks, said, playfully, but with a spice of malice:  “Take care, Uncle Thomas, or, as that funny theological student said to the people who were talking in church, ’I’ll call out your name before the haill congregation.’” This terrible threat caused Ezekiel to subside, and carry on a less personal conversation with Miss Du Plessis.  Then Mr. Terry came to the fore again.