THE SMUGGLER. 327 



CHAPTER XXIX. 



SIR ROBERT CROYLAND himself did not return to Harbourne 

 House till the hands of the clock pointed out to every one 

 that went through the hall that it was twenty minutes past 

 the usual dinner-hour; and, though he tried to be as expedi- 

 tious as he could, he was yet fully ten minutes longer in 

 dressing than usual. He was nervous, he was agitated: all 

 the events of that day had shaken and affected him; he was 

 angry with his servant, and several times he gave the most 

 contradictory orders. Although for years he had been under- 

 going a slow and gradual change, under the painful circum- 

 stances in which he had been placed, and had, from the gay, 

 rash, somewhat noisy and overbearing country gentleman, 

 dwindled down into the cold, silent, pompous, and imperative 

 man of family, yet the alteration during that day had been so 

 great and peculiar that the valet could not help remarking it, 

 and wondering if his master was ill. 



Sir Robert tried to smooth his look and compose his man- 

 ner for the dining-room, however; and when he entered, he 

 gazed round for Sir Edward Digby, observing aloud: "Why, 

 I thought soldiers were more punctual. However, as it hap- 

 pens, to-day I am glad Sir Edward is not down." 



"Downl" cried Mrs. Barbara, who had a grand objection 



to dinners being delayed, "why, he is out; but you could 



expect no better, for yesterday you were so long that the fish 



1 was done to rags, so I ordered it not to be put in till he made 



his appearance." 



" I told you, my dear aunt, that he said he might not be 

 back before dinner," replied her niece; "and, therefore, it will 

 be vain to wait for him. He desired me to say so, papa." 



"Oh I yes, Zara knows all about it," said Mrs. Barbara, 

 with a shrewd look; "they were talking together for ten 

 minutes in the library, and I cannot get her to tell me what 

 it was about." 



