“You may eat the bones yourself,” interrupted Roland. “I never saw such a house as this! Loads of provisions come into it, and yet there’s rarely anything to be had when it’s wanted. You must go and order me some oysters. Get four dozen. I am famished. If I hadn’t had a substantial tea, supplied me out of charity, I should be fainting before this! It’s a shame! I wonder my lady puts up with you two incapable servants.”
“There are no oysters to be had at this time, Mr. Roland,” returned Martha, who was accustomed to these interludes touching the housekeeping. “The shop shuts up at ten.”
Roland beat on the floor with the heel of his boot. Then he turned round fiercely to Martha. “Is there nothing in the house that’s eatable?”
“There’s an apple pie, sir.”
“Bring that, then. And while I am going into it, the cook can do me some eggs and ham.”
Gerald had turned round at this, angry in his turn, “If there’s an apple pie, Martha, why could you not have produced it for our supper? You know we were obliged to put up with cheese and butter!”
“Cook told me not to bring it up, Master Gerald. My lady gave no orders. Cook says if she made ten pies a day they’d get eaten, once you young gentlemen knew of their being in the house.”
“Well?” said Gerald. “She doesn’t provide them out of her own pocket.”
Roland paid his court to the apple pie, Gerald joining him. After it was finished, they kept the cook employed some time with the eggs and ham. Then Gerald, who had to be up betimes for morning school, went to bed; and I only hope he did not suffer from nightmare.
Roland took up his place before the fire, in the same chair and position vacated by Gerald. Thus he waited for Lady Augusta. It was not long before she came in.