It was the appetising odour of the grilled chicken that roused the doctor most, for after sipping his tea and partaking of one piece of toast he gave a very loud sniff and began to look round the table.
Vane’s plate and the dish before him at once took his attention.
“Meat tea?” he said smiling pleasantly. “Dear me! and I was under the impression that we had had dinner just as usual. Come, Vane, my boy, don’t be greedy. Remember your aunt; and I’ll take a little of that. It smells very good.”
“But, my dear, you had your dinner, and Vane was not there,” cried Aunt Hannah.
“Oh! bless my heart, yes,” said the doctor. “Really I had quite forgotten all about it.”
“Hold your plate, uncle,” cried Vane.
“Oh, no, thank you, my boy. It was all a mistake, I was thinking about the greenhouse, my dear, you know that the old flue is worn-out, and really something must be done to heat it.”
“Oh, never mind that,” said Aunt Hannah, but Vane pricked up his ears.
“But I must mind it, my dear,” said the doctor. “It does not matter now, but the cold weather will come, and it would be a pity to have the choice plants destroyed.”
“I think it is not worth the trouble,” said Aunt Hannah. “See how tiresome it is for someone to be obliged to come to see to that fire late on cold winter nights.”