Perhaps it was a natural instinct similar to that which directs wild animals to seek certain places at times to lick salt. At all events, tongue had a wonderfully attractive effect upon Lord Barmouth: he would steal or buy tongue in any shape to eat surreptitiously, and evidently from a natural effort to provide homoeopathically against that from which he suffered so much.
Tom gave her ladyship a great deal of trouble by his opposition to the very last, but his efforts were in vain.
“I might perhaps have done more, Maude,” he said, “but, hang it all, what more can I do? A fellow can’t hardly say his soul’s his own in this house. I’ve tried all I can to get the governor to take the lead, but the old woman sits upon him so heavily that he hasn’t a chance.”
Maude only wept silently and laid her head upon his shoulder.
“There, there, little girl,” he said, “cheer up. It’s fashion, and you mustn’t mind. Old Wilters is very soft after all, and you must take a leaf out of the old girl’s book, and serve him out for it all. Hang me, if I were you, if I wouldn’t make him pay dearly for all this.”
“Hush, Tom, dear Tom. Pray, pray don’t talk about it. Tom, dear, when I am gone—”
“There, I say, hang it all, don’t talk as if you were going to pop off.”
“Listen to me, Tom dear,” said Maude, firmly. “I say when I am gone, be as kind as you can to poor papa. I may not be able to speak to you again.”
“All right,” said Tom; “but I say, you will try and hold up.”
“Yes, Tom dear, yes.”