“ Oh, is it Madam!” she exclaimed. “Come in, then, come in! We’re at tea.” And she dragged forward a chair.
“ No, I won’t come in,” said Isabel, “I’m afraid I interrupt your meal.”
“ No—no—not likely, Madam, not likely.”
“ Hasn’t Mr. Pervin come in, do you know?”
“ I’m sure I couldn’t say! Missed him, have you, Madam?”
“ No, I only wanted him to come in,” laughed Isabel, as if shyly.
“ Wanted him, did ye? Get you, boy—get up, now—”
Mrs. Wernham knocked one of the boys on the shoulder. He began to scrape to his feet, chewing largely.
“ I believe he’s in top stable,” said another face from the table.
“ Ah! No, don’t get up. I’m going myself,” said Isabel.
“ Don’t you go out of a dirty night like this. Let the lad go. Get along wi’ ye, boy,” said Mrs. Wernham.
“ No, no,”
