Mrs. Tattle was seated at her tea-table, with a large plate of macaroons beside her when Frederick and Marianne entered. She was “delighted” they were come, and “grieved” not to see Miss Sophy along with them. Marianne coloured a little; for though she had precipitately followed her brother, and though he had quieted her conscience for a moment by saying “You know papa and mamma told us to do what we thought best,” yet she did not feel quite pleased with herself: and it was not till after Mrs. Theresa had exhausted all her compliments, and half her macaroons, that she could restore her spirits to their usual height.
“Come, Mr. Frederick,” said she after tea, “you promised to make me laugh; and nobody can make me laugh so well as yourself.”
“Oh, brother,” said Marianne, “show Mrs. Theresa Dr. Carbuncle eating his dinner; and I’ll be Mrs. Carbuncle.”
Marianne. Now, my dear, what shall I help you to?
Frederick. “My dear!” she never calls him my dear, you know, but always Doctor.
Mar. Well then, doctor, what will you eat to-day?
Fred. Eat, madam! eat! nothing! nothing! I don’t see anything here I can eat, ma’am.
Mar. Here’s eels, sir; let me help you to some eel—stewed eel;—you used to be fond of stewed eel.
Fred. Used, ma’am, used! But I’m sick of stewed eels. You would tire one of anything. Am I to see nothing but eels? And what’s this at the bottom?
Mar. Mutton, doctor, roast mutton; if you’ll be so good as to cut it.