He smiled. “This is not early for me,” he answered.
“And Mr. Matlack, is he up?”
“Oh yes, he is up, and gone off to attend to some business.”
“Well, really!” exclaimed Margery. “I thought I was the first one out in the world to-day. And now, Martin, don’t you want to do something for me? I did not think it would happen, but I am really dreadfully hungry, and couldn’t you give me my breakfast now, by myself, before anybody else? I am not particular what I have—anything that is easy to get ready will do—and I would like it down at the very edge of the lake.”
“You shall have it!” exclaimed Martin, eagerly. “I will get it ready for you very soon, and will bring it to you. I know you like bread and butter and jam, and there is some cold meat, and I will boil you an egg and make some coffee.”
“That will be lovely,” said Margery, “and I will go down by the lake and wait. I do believe,” she said to herself as she hurried away, “that this hermit business is the only sensible thing that ever came into the head of that classic statue with the glass fronts.”
Very soon Martin appeared with a rug, which he said she would want if she were going to sit on the ground; and then he ran away, but soon came back with the breakfast. Margery was surprised to see how tastefully it was served.
“You could not have done it better,” she said, “if you had been a”—she was about to say waiter, but as she gazed at the bright, handsome face of the young man she felt that it would hurt his feelings to use such a word, so she suddenly changed it to woman.
“If it is done well,” he said, “it is not because I am like a woman, but because you are one.”
“What does that mean?” thought Margery; but she did not stop to consider. “Thank you very much,” she said. “Here is where I am going to eat, and nobody will disturb me.”