A scornful poet, whose appetite was considerably jaded, has expressed his disgust at seeing women eat; but women, I have noticed, take great pleasure in seeing men, for whom they have any regard, relish a hearty meal. The new-comer ate as only a young gentleman who has travelled for hours on a coach-top can eat, and Margaret so enjoyed the spectacle that she neglected her own opportunities in that way, to watch him. ‘The ardour with which you attack that veal, Willie,’ she whispered slily, ‘reminds me of the Prodigal Son after his diet of husks.’
‘Did you think the manner in which my arrival was welcomed in other respects, Maggie,’ he inquired bitterly, ‘carried out the parable?’
‘Never mind; you are out for your holiday, remember, and must only think of enjoying yourself.’
‘Well, I hope you are glad to see me, at all events.’
‘Well, of course I am; it’s a very unexpected pleasure.’
‘Is it? I should have thought you might have guessed that I should have managed to join you somehow.’
‘I have not your genius for plots and strategies, Willie; it is so great that it sometimes a little alarms me,’ she answered gravely.
‘The weak must take up such weapons as lay to their hand,’ he replied drily.
This conversation, carried on as it was in a low tone, was drowned by the clatter of knives and forks; before the latter had ceased the notes of the horn were once more heard, the signal for the resumption of their journey.