“Dost mean to say they voted rebellion?” roared Mr. Meredith, halting in his angry stride.

“It duz hev a squint toward it, theer ain’t no denyin’.  But I reckon it wuz baound ter come, vote ay or vote nay.  Fer nigh three months all the young fellers hev been drillin’ pooty reg’lar.”

“Oh!” spoke up Janice.  “Then that ’s what Charles meant when he said ’t was drill took him to the village.”

“What?” demanded the squire.  “My bond-servant?”

“Ay.  ‘T is he duz the trainin’, so Phil tells me.”

Mr. Meredith opened the door into the hall, and bawled, “Peg!” Without waiting to give the maid time to answer the summons he roared the name again, and continued to fairly bellow it until the appearance of the girl, whom he then ordered to “find Charles and send him here.”  Slightly relieved, he stamped back to the fire, muttering to himself in his ire.

A pause for a moment ensued, and then the elder Hennion spoke:  “Waal, Meredith, hev yer rumpus with yer servant, but fust off let me say the say ez me and Phil come fer.”

“And what ’s that?”

“I rayther guess yer know areddy,” continued the father, while the son’s face became of the colour of the hickory embers.  “My boy ’s in a mighty stew about yer gal, but he can’t git the pluck ter tell her; so seem’ he needed some help an since I’d come ez far ez Brunswick, says I we’ll make one ride of it, an’ over we comes ter tell yer fair an’ open what he’s hangin’ araound fer.”

Another red face was hurriedly concealed by its owner stooping over her tambour-frame, and Janice stitched away as if nothing else were worth a second thought.  It may be noted, however, that, as a preliminary to further work the next morning, a number of stitches had to be removed.

“Ho, ho!” laughed the squire, heartily, and slapping Phil on the shoulder.  “A shy bird, but a sly bird, eh?  Oh, no!  Mr. Fox thought the old dogs did n ’t know that he wanted little Miss Duck.”

Already in an agony of embarrassment, this speech reduced Phil to still more desperate straits.  He could look at his father only in a kind of dumb appeal, and that individual, seeing his son ’s helplessness, spoke again.

“I’d hev left the youngsters ter snook araound till they wuz able ter fix things by themselves,” Mr. Hennion explained.  “But the times is gittin’ so troublous thet I want ter see Phil sottled, an’ not rampin’ araound as young fellers will when they hain’t got nuthin’ ter keep them hum nights.  An’ so I reckon thet if it ever is ter be, the sooner the better.  Yer gal won’t be the wus off, hevin’ three men ter look aout fer her, if it duz come on ter blow.”

“Well said!” answered the squire.  “What say ye, Matilda?”

“Oh, dadda,” came an appeal from the tambour-frame, “I don’t want to marry.  I want to stay at home with—­”

“Be quiet, child,” spoke up her mother, “and keep thine opinion to thyself till asked.  We know best what is for thy good.”