“Oh, don’t you be afraid! It was the cold, heavy pastry that did it at Lull’s! There was no basket beggars to carry off the cold pie crusts and puddin’s, and me and the girls used to eat ’em all up at night to keep ’em from being wasted on. And I never heard of their hurting anybody but me, either. But don’t you be afraid. I shall eat nothing but the very best of nutericious and digesterable food, like stewed oysters and sich.”
“Very well, Poley. Eat what you will, so it shall agree with you. And now don’t fail to invite your relations in my name as well as in your own to come to Wolfscliff to see you next summer.”
“Thank you, ma’am, for reminding me again. Now I know you are in airnest and I’ll be sure to invite them.”
“Why, Poley, I am always in earnest.”
“To be sure, I know you are, ma’am, dear child,” answered Mrs. Pole, divided in her style of address, between her respect for her mistress and her tenderness of her pet.
And then again she took leave and went out.
Cleve came out and escorted Palma down to dinner, where the many and slow courses occupied them for more than an hour.
At ten o’clock Poley punctually made her appearance, and ate a hearty supper of stewed oysters and brown stout with her nephew.
At eleven o’clock the whole party retired to rest.