“What does he mean by set it?” whispered Trafford.
“Setting means plunging it in very hot water soon after killing it, to preserve and harden the 'curd.' Yes; and I took your hint about the arbutus leaves, too, doctor. I covered it all up with them.”
“You are a teachable youth, and shall be rewarded. Come and eat him to-morrow. Dare I hope that these gentlemen are disengaged, and will honor my poor parsonage? Will you favor me with your company at five o'clock, sir?”
Sir Brook bowed, and accepted the invitation with pleasure.
“And you, sir?”
“Only too happy,” said Trafford.
“Lucy, my dear, you must be one of us.”
“Oh, I could not; it is impossible, doctor,—you know it is.”
“I know nothing of the kind.”
“Papa away,—not to speak of his never encouraging us to leave home,” muttered she, in a whisper.