“Yes, sir,” said the coachman.  He gathered up the lines, but sat looking hesitatingly at his employer.

“What are you waiting for?” asked Carroll.  “Drive as fast as you can.  We are late as it is.”

“Shall I pay, sir?” asked the man, timidly, in a low voice.

Carroll took out his pocket-book, then replaced it.  “No, not to-night,” he said, easily.  “Tell him it is for Captain Carroll of Banbridge.”

The man still looked doubtful and a trifle alarmed, but he touched his hat and drove out of the grounds.  Carroll turned and saw his wife and sister staring at him.

“Oh, Arthur, dear, do you think the butcher will let him have it?” whispered Mrs. Carroll.

“Yes, honey,” said Carroll.

“If he shouldn’t—­”

“Don’t worry; he will.”

“It is one of your coups, isn’t it, Arthur?” said Anna, sarcastically, but rather admiringly.  She and Mrs. Carroll both laughed.

“We have never bought any meat in New Sanderson, so maybe Martin can get it,” Mrs. Carroll said, as she seated herself in one of the large willow-rockers on the porch.

Dinner was very late that night at the Carrolls’.  Even with a fast horse, driving to New Sanderson and back consumed some time, but Martin finally returned triumphant.  When he drove into the yard it was dusk and the family and the guest were all seated on the porch.  There was a steady babble of talk and laughter on the part of the ladies, who were nervously intent on concealing, or at least softening, the fact that dinner was so late that Major Arms might well be excused for judging that there was to be no dinner at all.

Once, Ina had whispered to Charlotte, when the conversation among the others swelled high:  “What is the matter?  Do you know?”

“Hush!  Poor papa had to send to New Sanderson for meat,” whispered Charlotte.

Ina made a face of consternation; Charlotte looked sadly troubled.

“I’m afraid he is awfully hungry,” whispered Ina.  “I pity him.”

“I pity papa,” whispered Charlotte.  She kept glancing at her father with loving sympathy and understanding as the time went on.  His face was quite undisturbed, but Charlotte saw beneath the calm.  When at last she heard the carriage-wheels her heart leaped and she turned pale.  Then she dared not look at her father.  Suppose Martin should not have been successful.  The eyes of all the family except Carroll himself, who was talking about the tariff and politely supporting the government against a hot-headed rebellion on the part of the ex-army officer, were on him.  Not an inflection in his voice changed when Martin drove past the porch, but the others, even Eddy, who was seated at his sister’s feet on the porch-step, eyed the arrival with undisguised eagerness.  A brown-paper parcel was distinctly visible on the seat beside Martin.

“Thank God!” Mrs. Carroll whispered, under her breath to her sister.  “He’s got it.”