Gertrude opened her travelling-basket, which contained their luncheon. It consisted merely of such dry morsels as had been hastily collected and put up at their hotel, in Albany, by Dr. Jeremy's direction. Gertrude was hesitating which she could recommend to Emily, when a waiter appeared, bearing a tray of refreshments, which he placed upon the table.
"This is not for us," said Gertrude. "You have made a mistake."
"No mistake," replied the man. "Orders was for de blind lady and hansum young miss. I only 'beys orders. Anything furder, miss?"
Gertrude dismissed the man with the assurance that they wanted nothing more, and then, turning to Emily, asked, with an attempt at cheerfulness, what they should do with this Aladdin-like repast.
"Eat it, my dear, if you can," said Emily; "it is no doubt meant for us."
"But to whom are we indebted for it?"
"To my blindness and your beauty, I suppose," said Emily, smiling. "Perhaps the chief steward, or master of ceremonies, took pity on our inability to come to dinner, and so sent the dinner to us."
The sable waiter, when he came to remove the dishes, really looked sad to see how little they had eaten. Gertrude drew out her purse, and after bestowing a fee upon the man, inquired whom she should pay for the meal.
"Pay, miss!" said the man, grinning. "Bless my stars! de gentleman pays for all!"
"Who? What gentleman?" asked Gertrude, in surprise.