"TROJANAS UT OPES ET LAMENTABILE REGNUM ERUERINT DANAI," said Laura, almost blind with pride and pleasure.
"Well, well, well!" he exclaimed, in what seemed tremendous surprise; but, even as she spoke, his thoughts were swept away; for he had taken up a mustard-pot and found it empty. "Yes, yes, here we are again! Not a scrap of mustard on the table. "—His voice was angrily resigned.
"With MUTTON, Robby dear?" ventured Mrs. Shepherd, with the utmost humbleness.
"With mutton if I choose!" he retorted violently. "WILL you, Maisie, be kind enough to allow me to know my own tastes best, and not dictate to me what I shall eat?"
But Mrs. Shepherd, murmuring: "Oh dear! it's that dreadful girl," had already made a timid spring at the bell.
"Poor Robby ... so rushed again!" said Isabella in a reproachful tone.
"And while she's here she may bring the water and the glasses as well," snarled the master of the house, who had run a flaming eye over the table.
"Tch, tch, tch!" said Mrs. Shepherd, with so little spirit that Laura felt quite sorry for her.
"REALLY, Maisie!" said Miss Isabella. "And when the poor boy's so rushed, too."
This guerilla warfare continued throughout luncheon, and left Laura wondering why, considering the dearth of time, and the distress of the ladies at each fresh contretemps, they did not jump up and fetch the missing articles themselves—as Mother would have done—instead of each time ringing the bell and waiting for the appearance of the saucy, unwilling servant. As it turned out, however, their behaviour had a pedagogic basis. It seemed that they hoped, by constantly summoning the maid, to sharpen her memory. But Mrs. Shepherd was also implicated in the method; and this was the reason why Isabella—as she afterwards explained to Laura—never offered her a thimbleful of help.