An hour later the major strolled into the sitting-room, his arm through Jack's.
"Grand old place, is it not?" he said, turning to me. "Full of historic interest. Of co'se the damnable oligarchy has stripped us, but"—
Here Aunt Rachel flopped in—her slippers, I mean; the sound was distinctly audible.
"Bre'kfus', major."
"All right, Rachel. Come, gentlemen!"
When we were all seated, the major leaned back in his chair, toyed with his knife a moment, and said with an air of great deliberation:—
"Gentlemen, when I was in New York I discovered that the fashionable dish of the day was a po'ter-house steak. So when I knew you were coming, I wired my agent in Baltimo' to go to Lexington market and to send me down on ice the best steak he could buy fo' money. It is now befo' you.
"Jack, shall I cut you a piece of the tenderloin?"