"I—suppose so, sir. Shall I ring for it?" she inquired.
"Let me! Let me! Oh, please let me wait on you!" exclaimed Rose, as she sprang up, ran across the room, and rang a peal on the bell.
The waiter came.
"Will you also order the breakfast, Mrs. Stillwater, if such is your pleasure?" inquired Cora, who could not help this little bit of ill humor.
"Certainly I will, my dear, if you like!" said the imperturbable Rose, who was resolved never to understand sarcasm, and never to take offense—"Waiter, bring me a bill of fare."
The waiter went out to do his errand.
Old Aaron Rockharrt glared sternly at his granddaughter; but his fire did not strike his intended victim, for Cora had her back turned and was looking out of the window.
The waiter came in with the breakfast bill of fare.
"Will you listen, Mr. Rockharrt, and you, dear Cora, and tell me what to mark, as I read out the items," said Rose, sweetly, as she took the card from the hands of the man.
"Thank you, I want nothing especially," answered Cora.