But the lady was pleased to see that he had remembered how to summon Mary, and as soon as that young woman appeared she was directed to get a supper ready in the breakfast-room.
“At once. Put on any cold meat there happens to be, and warm up the soup was left from dinner. I couldn’t touch it, you know, I was feeling so sad. Get plenty of bread and butter, and milk—and, yes, a piece of mince pie. Mrs. Livingston, across the square, never gives her children pie. She believes in oatmeal as a staple diet, but their grandmother indulges them when they visit her. For once, I fancy, it won’t hurt, and in the future I’ll—Oh! what a lot I shall have to learn; and how delightfully exciting it all is! Mary, don’t stare at me like that. It’s impertinent. I know you don’t mean it so, and you think I’m a little flighty. Well, I am. Very flighty, indeed! But—fancy old Madame Satterlee’s face!”
“Ma’am?” asked the puzzled servant, really afraid that grief for Sir Christopher had upset her mistress’ mind.
“I said: Get a supper ready in the breakfast-room. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am. For one or two?”
“For two. For this young gentleman and myself.”
“The land’s sake!” ejaculated the waitress, as she obeyed, though more astonished than ever. “Young gentleman, says she!”
Towsley began to understand that he was to have supper. He would not have troubled about such a small matter, of his own accord, remembering the cream and cake; but since it was mentioned he did feel a sort of emptiness inside, and his hazel eyes grew eager again. Miss Lucy’s own eyes were looking at the fire in the grate, and she was not, therefore, offended a second time by the child’s greediness. She was seeing pictures in the coals, and all of them were of Towsley—though such a different Towsley from the real one. Presently a doubt arose in her mind. Supposing that there should be some obstacle to her carrying out the plans which the pictures in the fire suggested? She turned suddenly and rather sharply upon the lad:
“Have you any people?”