“Sir?” she said with a bewildered look.
“Ha! ha! ha! don’t you know that’s what the Scotch call a leg of mutton? I’m sure you’ll find it relishing. Just send me your plate by the fair hands of our young Devine. I fear her divinity lies altogether in name, for certainly she’s neither heavenly nor spiritual, supernatural nor superhuman in appearance.”
“No,” remarked Mrs. Goodenough in her slow, absent way as Patsy took the plate, “she’s not equivalent to that. What is it Shakespeare says?”
“My classical sister—” began Mr. Sharp, in mock admiration.
“Aunt Prue,” asked Hetty hastily, “did Mrs. Cox decide whether she would have real lace on her bonnet?”
“Yes, and on the dress too. She’s running up a large bill, but she is able to pay it.”
“She or her husband?” asked Mr. Sharp with a sneer.
“She has none.”
“Fortunate creature!” exclaimed Hetty in an aside.