"Bat it wasn't Mr. Frank's fault, Lucy," said Mrs. Churchill; "the train was late. Now, my boy, come; you must be starved in earnest;" and they went downstairs.
"We've not got such a dinner for you as you've been having lately, maybe," said Lucy, as she uncovered the dishes. "But you can't be always among lords and ladies, Master Frank."
"Lucy, you silly thing!" said Mrs. Churchill, half-laughing, but looking half-ashamed.
"I've not been among them at all, Lucy, for the matter of that," said Churchill good-humouredly, though his brow began to cloud.
"Well," said the woman, leisurely handing the dishes, "it's not for the want of wishing. Here we are, left at home, in the hot autumn weather; while you--"
"Lucy!" exclaimed Mrs. Churchill.
"Be good enough to leave the room," said Churchill; "this minute!" he said, bringing his hand heavily down on the table, as the woman lingered, looking towards her mistress. "Why, mother darling, what is this?" he asked, when they were alone; "that woman's tongue was always free, and her manner always familiar; but this is quite a new experience."
"It is, my child," said poor Mrs. Churchill; "I don't know how to excuse her, except that it is all done out of excess of affection for me, and--"
"That's quite enough excuse for me, mother," said Churchill, rising, and kissing her. "There, now we'll change the conversation;" and they talked merrily enough on indifferent topics throughout dinner.
When the cloth was removed, and after Frank had produced his old meerschaum, and had drawn up his chair to the newly-lighted bit of fire, he said to his mother, "I've some news to tell you, mum."