CHAPTER TWELVE.
"THE DEVIL'S BIT." "Now, me dearie," said Mrs Gilmour, replacing her needle and thimble, with the reel of thread, in her little "housewife," and putting that carefully back into her pocket, "sure, we'll have a jollification on our own account as our gentlemen have left us.

We'll show them that we can do without them, sure, when we like." "How nice, auntie!" cried Miss Nellie, agreeing thoroughly in the sentiment her aunt had expressed, the desertion of the Captain and Bob, in addition to the fact of Dick having been also taken away, having affected the young lady more than she had acknowledged.

"What shall we do first to be `jolly,' as Bob says ?" "I'll soon show you, me dearie," replied Mrs Gilmour.

"Sure, you'll say in a minute, Nell.

Come now, me darlint, and help me." Then ensued a pleasant task, one in which Rover especially evinced the keenest interest, the sagacious retriever watching their every movement with an attention that never faltered.
Needless almost to say, the agreeable occupation in question was that of unpacking the hamper containing all the good things which Sarah had packed and Dick had brought from the house for their picnic in the woods.
Aye, it was in the woods; and under the woods, too! Encircled by a hedge of green shrubbery and thicket undergrowth, amidst which the wild-flowers of the forest stood out here and there, their brightest tints gleaming with a wealth of colouring which nature's gems alone display, Mrs Gilmour selected a nice smooth stretch of velvety turf for their table.
On this, she proceeded to lay a damask cloth, whose snowy whiteness contrasted vividly with its surroundings; for, a clump of silver birches joined in hand-clasp with a straggling oak overhead, sheltering the grass-plot with their welcome shade from the heat of the noonday sun, while, over all, a lofty spreading elm extended its sturdy branches, like outstretched arms, above its lesser brethren below, as if saying paternally, "Bless you, my children!" Having daintily arranged the contends of the hamper to the best advantage on the open-air banqueting-table, an enormous veal-and-ham pie, their chief dish, in the centre, Mrs Gilmour and Nellie surveyed their handiwork with much complacency.
"Sure, and I don't think a single thing has been forgotten," observed the former with pardonable pride, after a critical inspection of the various viands.