"It was, my lady,—and I think we shall do. We've got the steam-washery put up."
"Towels!" suggested the Duchess.
"Oh yes, my lady. Puddick's did send a great many things;—a whole waggon load there was come from the station. But the tablecloths ain't, none of 'em, long enough for the big table." The Duchess's face fell. "Of course there must be two. On them very long tables, my lady, there always is two."
"Why didn't you tell me, so that I could have had them made? It's impossible,—impossible that one brain should think of it all. Are you sure you've got enough hands in the kitchen?"
"Well, my lady;—we couldn't do with more; and they ain't an atom of use,—only just in the way,—if you don't know something about 'em. I suppose Mr. Millepois will be down soon." This name, which Mrs. Pritchard called Milleypoise, indicated a French cook who was as yet unknown at the Castle.
"He'll be here to-night."
"I wish he could have been here a day or two sooner, my lady, so as just to see about him."
"And how should we have got our dinner in town? He won't make any difficulties. The confectioner did come?"
"Yes, my lady; and to tell the truth out at once, he was that drunk last night that—; oh, dear, we didn't know what to do with him."
"I don't mind that before the affair begins. I don't suppose he'll get tipsy while he has to work for all these people. You've plenty of eggs?"