“Very pleased to have you at the table, madam,” he replied. “As to the seating, I leave that entirely to the steward. I never interfere myself.”
Laura pinched his arm, and Lenora glanced away to hide a smile. Mrs. Foston Rowe studied the menu disapprovingly.
“Hors d’oeuvres,” she declared, “I never touch. No one knows how long they’ve been opened. Bouillon—I will have some bouillon, steward.”
“In one moment, madam.”
The Professor just then came ambling along towards the table.
“I fear that I am a few moments late,” he remarked, as he took the chair next to Mrs. Foston Rowe. “I offer you my apologies, Captain. I congratulate you upon your library. I have discovered a most interesting book upon the habits of seagulls. It kept me engrossed until the very last moment.”
“Very disagreeable habits, those I’ve noticed,” Mrs. Foston Rowe sniffed.
“Madam,” the Professor assured her, “yours is but a superficial view. For myself, I must confess that the days upon which I learn something new in life are days of happiness for me. To-day is an example; I have learnt something new about seagulls, and I am hungry.”
“Well, you’ll have to stay hungry a long time at this table, then,” Mrs. Foston Rowe snapped. “Seems to me that the service is going to be abominable.”
The steward, who had just arrived, presented a cup of bouillon to Quest. The others had all been served. Quest stirred it thoughtfully.