'We're going now, dear,' said Aunt Annie.
'Sarah will have your tea ready at half-past five,' said his mother. 'And I've told her to be sure and boil the eggs three and three-quarter minutes.'
'And we shall be back about half-past nine,' said Aunt Annie.
'Don't stick at it too closely,' said his mother. 'You ought to take a little exercise. It's a beautiful afternoon.'
'I shall see,' Henry answered gravely. 'I shall be all right.'
He watched the ladies down the road in the direction of the tea-meeting, and no sooner were they out of sight than he nipped upstairs and locked himself in his bedroom. At half-past five Sarah tapped at his door and announced that tea was ready. He descended to tea in his overcoat, and the collar of his overcoat was turned up and buttoned across his neck. He poured out some tea, and drank it, and poured some more into the slop-basin. He crumpled a piece or two of bread-and-butter and spread crumbs on the cloth. He shelled the eggs very carefully, and, climbing on to a chair, dropped the eggs themselves into a large blue jar which stood on the top of the bookcase. After these singular feats he rang the bell for Sarah.
'Sarah,' he said in a firm voice, 'I've had my tea, and I'm going out for a long walk. Tell my mother and aunt that they are on no account to wait up for me, if I am not back.'
'Yes, sir,' said Sarah timidly. 'Was the eggs hard enough, sir?'
'Yes, thank you.' His generous, kindly approval of the eggs cheered this devotee.