Now Christopher could generally see when a thing was funny, even when the joke was at his own expense; but Alan took life more seriously, which--as Elisabeth assured herself--showed what a much more earnest man than Christopher he was, in spite of his less orthodox opinions.

So she made up her mind that she would not catch Christopher's eye on the present occasion, as she usually did when anything amused her, because it was cruel to laugh at the frustration of poor Alan's high-flown plans; and then naturally she looked straight at the spot where Chris was presiding over a table, and returned his smile of perfect comprehension.

It was one of Elisabeth's peculiarities that she invariably did the thing which she had definitely made up her mind not to do.
After dinner the party broke up and wandered about, in small detachments, over the park and through the woods and by the mere, until it was tea-time.

Alan spent most of his afternoon in explaining to Elisabeth the more excellent ways whereby the poor may be enabled to share the pleasures of the rich; and Christopher spent most of his in carrying Johnnie Stubbs to the mere and taking him for a row, and so helping the crippled youth to forget for a short time that he was not as other men are, and that it was out of pity that he, who never worked, had been permitted to take the holiday which he could not earn.
After tea Alan and Elisabeth were standing on the steps leading from the saloon to the garden.
"What a magnificent fellow that is!" exclaimed Alan, pointing to the huge figure of Caleb Bateson, who was talking to Jemima Stubbs on the far side of the lawn.

Caleb certainly justified this admiration, for he was a fine specimen of a Mershire puddler--and there is no finer race of men to be found anywhere than the puddlers of Mershire.
Elisabeth's eyes twinkled.