Beds were ordered, too, for Dutton, his wife, and daughter; and his namesake, the lieutenant, was expected also to sleep under his roof, that night.
The day passed in the customary manner; the party having breakfasted, and then separated to attend to their several occupations, agreeably to the usages of all country houses, in all parts of the world, and, we believe, in all time.

Sir Gervaise, who had sent a messenger off to the Plantagenet for certain papers, spent the morning in writing; Admiral Bluewater walked in the park, by himself; Atwood was occupied with his superior; Sir Wycherly rode among his labourers; and Tom Wychecombe took a rod, and pretended to go forth to fish, though he actually held his way back to the head-land, lingering in and around the cottage until it was time to return home.

At the proper hour, Sir Wycherly sent his chariot for the ladies; and a few minutes before the appointed moment, the party began to assemble in the drawing-room.
When Sir Wycherly appeared, he found the Duttons already in possession, with Tom doing the honours of the house.

Of the sailing-master and his daughter, it is unnecessary to say more than that the former was in his best uniform--an exceedingly plain one, as was then the case with the whole naval wardrobe--and that the last had recovered from her illness, as was evident by the bloom that the sensitive blushes constantly cast athwart her lovely face.

Her attire was exactly what it ought to have been; neat, simple, and becoming.