her eye, and nodded to her.  Next to him she saw Marianne, then Reginald; on the other side Alethea and William.  A little tranquillised by seeing that every one was not lost, she had courage to eat some cold chicken, to talk to Frank about the sugar temple, and to make an inventory in her mind of the smartest bonnets for Ada’s benefit.  She was rather unhappy at not having found out when grace was said before dinner, and she made Eleanor promise to tell her in time to stand up after dinner.  She could not, however, hear much, though warned in time, and by this time more at ease and rather enjoying herself than otherwise.  Now Eleanor told her to listen, for Cousin Rotherwood was going to speak.  She listened, but knew not what was said, until Mr. Hawkesworth told her it was Church and Queen.  What Church and Queen had to do with Cousin Rotherwood’s birthday she could not imagine, and she laid it up in her mind to ask Claude.  The next time she was told to listen she managed to hear more.  By the help of Eleanor’s directions, she found out the speaker, an aged farmer, in a drab greatcoat, his head bald, excepting a little silky white hair, which fell over the collar of his coat.  It was Mr. Elderfield, the oldest tenant on the estate, and he was saying in a slow deliberate tone that he was told he was to propose his lordship’s health.  It was a great honour for the like of him, and his lordship must excuse him if he did not make a fine speech.  All he could say was, that he had lived eighty-three years on the estate, and held his farm nearly sixty years; he had seen three marquises of Rotherwood besides his present lordship, and he had always found them very good landlords.  He hoped and believed his lordship was like his fathers, and he was sure he could do no better than tread in their steps.  He proposed the health of Lord Rotherwood, and many happy returns of the day to him.

The simplicity and earnestness of the old man’s tones were appreciated by all, and the tremendous cheer, which almost terrified Phyllis, was a fit assent to the hearty good wishes of the old farmer.

‘Now comes the trial!’ whispered Claude to Lilias, after he had vehemently contributed his proportion to the noise.  Lilias saw that his colour had risen, as much as if he had to make a speech himself, and he earnestly examined the coronet on his fork, while every other eye was fixed on the Marquis.  Eloquence was not to be expected; but, at least, Lord Rotherwood spoke clearly and distinctly.

‘My friends,’ said he, ’you must not expect much of a speech from me; I can only thank you for your kindness, say how glad I am to see you here, and tell you of my earnest desire that I may not prove myself unworthy to be compared with my forefathers.’  Here was a pause.  Claude’s hand shook, and Lily saw how anxious he was, but in another moment the Marquis went on smoothly.  ’Now, I must ask you to drink the health of a gentleman who has done his utmost to compensate for the loss which we sustained nine years ago, and to whom I owe any good intentions which I may bring to the management of this property.  I beg leave to propose the health of my uncle, Mr. Mohun, of Beechcroft.’