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Rh ‘Shall I assist the young ladies to anything first? said the attorney, wishing to be polite.

’Nothing, thank you,’ said Miss Penelope, with a very stiff bow. She also knew that Mr. Dockwrath was an attorney from Hamworth, and considered herself by no means bound to hold any sort of conversation with him.

‘My daughters only eat bread and butter in the middle of the day,’ said the lady. ’Creusa, my dear, will you give Mr. Dockwrath a potato. Mr. Mason, Mr. Dockwrath will probably take a bit of that chicken.’

‘I would recommend him to follow the girls’ example, and confine himself to the bread and butter,’ said the master of the house, pushing about the scraps with his knife and fork. ’There is nothing here for him to eat.’

’My dear!’ exclaimed Mrs. Mason.

‘There is nothing here for him to eat,’ repeated Mr. Mason. ’And as far as I can see there is nothing there either. What is it you pretend to have in that dish?’

’My dear!’ again exclaimed Mrs. Mason.

‘What is it?’ repeated the lord of the house in an angry tone.

‘Broiled ham, Mr. Mason.’

’Then let the ham bo brought in,’ said he. ’Diana, ring the bell.’

‘But the ham is not cooked, Mr. Mason,’ said the lady. ‘Broiled ham is always better when it has not been first boiled.’

‘Is there no cold meat in the house?’ he asked.

‘I am afraid not,’ she replied, now trembling a little in anticipation of what might be coming after the stranger should have gone. ‘You never like large joints yourself, Mr. Mason; and for ourselves we don’t eat meat at luncheon.’

‘Nor anybody else either, here,’ said Mr. Mason in his anger,

‘Pray don’t mind me, Mr. Mason,’ said the attomey, ‘pray don’t, Mr. Mason. ‘I am a very poor fist at lunch; I am indeed.’

‘I am sure I am very sorry, very sorry, Mr. Mason,’ continued the lady. ’If I had known that an early dinner was required, it should have been provided;—although the notice given was so very short.’

’I never dine early,’ said Mr. Dockwrath, thinking that some imputation of a low way of living was conveyed in this supposition that he required a dinner under tho pseudonym of a lunch. ’I never do, upon my word—we are quite regular at home at half past five, and all I ever take in the middle of the day is a biscuit and a glass of sherry,—or perhaps a bite of bread and cheese. Don’t be uneasy about me, Mrs. Mason,’

Tho three young ladies, having now finished their repast, got up from the table and retired, following each other out of the room in