"I only judged from the looks of the table," said Joshua, not very respectfully. "You don't mean that we shall any of us suffer from the gout."
"Bread and butter and pie are good enough for anybody," said Mr. Drummond, stiffly.
"I don't see any pie. Excuse me, there is a little,—so little that I did not at first see it."
This was too much for Mr. Drummond's temper.
"Unmannerly boy!" he exclaimed; "if you are dissatisfied with the fare you get at home, you can engage board elsewhere."
"I would like to," muttered Joshua, in a low voice, which his father chose not to hear.
In silence he helped himself to bread and butter, and in due time accepted a piece of pie, which Mrs. Drummond made larger at the expense of her own share.
Harmony thus being restored, Mr. Drummond remarked, "I've had a telegram to-day from Willoughby."
"From Willoughby?" repeated his wife. "Isn't that where your cousin William Conrad lives?"