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Rh on the table with his knife. Mrs. Sharland leisurely returned. She was alone. "Well?" from Rebow. "Mehalah is not in her room." "Curse it!" said Elijah. "Where is she, then? Go and fetch her." "I do not know where she is." "She will be here directly," said Rebow, controlling himself. "You may fall to, neighbours." At the word every fork was plunged into the puddings, and every knife driven into their hearts. Each sought who could appropriate to himself the largest block of pudding. Then there ensued a struggle for the gravy, and great impatience was manifested by those who had to wait till others had well drenched their hunches of dough in the greasy liquor. Rebow leaned back in his chair, holding knife and fork erect on the table. "Why is she not here? She ought to be here." "Take some dumpling, Elijah?"

"I won't eat till my Glory comes." "Lord preserve you!" exclaimed Mrs. De Witt, slapping his back. "Go on and eat. You don't understand girls, as you do calves, that is a fact. Why, a girl on her marriage-day is shamefaced, and does not like to be seen. In high society they hide their heads in their wails all day. That is what the wails are for. I was like that. You may look at me, but it is true as that every oyster wears a beard. When I was married to Moses I was that kittle, coy young bird I would have dived and hid among the barnacles on the keel of the wessel, had I been able to keep under water like a duck."

"Where is she?"

"How do I know? Never fear; she is somewhere—gone out to get a little fresh air. It was hot and stank in that hold of an old church. What with the live corpses above in the pews and the dead ones below deck, it gave me a headache, and you may be sure Mehalah was overcome. I saw she did not look well. The pleasure, I suppose, has been too much for her. A wery little tipple of that topples some folks over."