“Haven’t got any mushrooms?” said Jones, reproachfully. “Why, I’ve a bed just coming on.”
“Then I should like to make a dish to-day, and use a few in one of my sauces,” said cook; and half-an-hour later Jones returned with a basketful, which he deposited upon the table with a thrill of pride.
The presence of Moray Alleyne, and the way in which he was taken up, as the captain called it, by Glynne, so filled the mind of Rolph, that there was no room for anything else, and as the dinner went on, his annoyance so sharpened his appetite that he ate very heartily of the two entrées and the joint. It was not until the second course was in progress that a dish was handed round, to which, after a telegraphic glance between the major and Lucy, that young lady helped herself. Glynne took some mechanically, to the major’s great delight, and, like Lucy, went on eating. Then the dish was handed to Rolph, who fixed his glass in his eye, and started slightly as he suddenly recalled the trick he had played in the hall.
“What’s this?” he said in an undertone to the butler.
“Sham pinions ho nateral, sir.”
“Humph! no. Take the dish to Mr Alleyne.”
The man took the dish round to the guest, who, talking the while to Glynne, helped himself liberally, and went on eating.
“Won’t you have some, Rolph?” said the major, helping himself in turn.
“I! No. Don’t care for such dishes.”
“Seems to be very good,” said the major. “Smells delicious, and everyone’s eating it.”