"There, my dear," said Mrs. Trapes after a while, "there's a cup o' tea as is a cup o' tea, brewed jest on the b'ile, in a hot pot, and drawed to perfection! Set right down an' drink it, slow an' deliberate. Tea ain't meant to be swallowed down careless, like a man does his beer! An' why?" demanded Mrs. Trapes, as they sipped the fragrant beverage, all three, "why ain't you out with your precious—peanuts, Mr. Geoffrey?"
Ravenslee set down his cup and turned to Hermione.
"Mrs. Trapes has told you, I think, that I am become—er—an itinerant vendor of the ubiquitous peanut—"
"Mr. Geoffrey!" gasped Mrs. Trapes, gulping a mouthful of hot tea and blinking, "I never did! Never in all my days would I allow myself such expressions—Mr. Geoffrey, I'm ashamed at you! An' that reminds me—it was chicken fricassee, wasn't it? For your supper, I mean?"
"I believe it was."
"Then," said Mrs. Trapes, rising, "I'll go an' buy it. Was you wantin' anything fetched, Hermy?"
"If you wouldn't mind bringing a bunch of asparagus—"
"Sparrergrass!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes in horror-struck tones, "why, it's anywhere from thirty to sixty cents—"
"But Arthur loves it, dear, and now that he's working so hard—"
"Arthur likes!" cried Mrs. Trapes indignantly. "Mr. Geoffrey, it's been Arthur ever since he was born, an' her scrinchin' an' pinchin' herself for the sake o' that b'y. O' course he likes sparrergrass—so do I—but I make shift with pertatoes or cabbidge or carrots—an' so should he. Come now, Hermy, you take a bunch o' carrots instead; carrots is healthy an' cheap! Come now, is that sparrergrass to be carrots or not?"