Frank thought it strange that his companion, after proposing that they should go and feed the ducks, had forgotten all about the bread. However, he said no more, but rang, and asked the servant to get him a couple of slices.
The man stared, but withdrew, and came back directly.
“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said; “but did you wish me to bring the bread here?”
“Certainly. Be quick, please. We are waiting to go out.”
The man withdrew for the second time, and the lads waited chatting together till Andrew grew impatient.
“Ring again,” he cried. “Have they sent to have a loaf baked? It’s getting late. Let’s start. Never mind the bread.”
“Oh, let’s have it now it’s ordered. How are we to feed the ducks without?”
“Throw them some stones,” said Andrew mockingly. “Come along. We’ll look at other people feeding them—if there are any. Look here; it’s twenty minutes by that clock since you gave the order.”
At that moment another footman opened the door, and held it back for one of his fellows to enter bearing a tray covered with a cloth, on which were a loaf, a butter-dish, knives, plates, glasses, and a decanter of water.
“Oh, what nonsense!” cried Andrew impatiently. “There, cut a slice, Frank, put it in your pocket, and come along, or we shall be late.”