"Put it on the hot plate quickly—now the toast. Children, make your father's toast—don't burn it whatever you do!" Thump—thump—thump—that was three thumps and there ought to be four; would James never make the fourth thump? She thought she would go mad if he left off at three. Ah! There it was, that was the fourth thump; now surely he must be coming. The toast was made; it would get cold and flabby. James hated it flabby. If they put it in the grate it would get hard; James hated it hard. Where was James?
"Children, put the toast in the grate; no, don't—wait a minute."
Now there was another sound; that was James blowing his nose. He must be coming down, then, for he always blew his nose on his soiled pocket handkerchief with just that sound, before he took his clean one. What was that—something broken!
"Joan, go and see what Alice has smashed. Oh! I hope it's not the new breakfast dish, the fire-proof one!"
Thump, thump, on the stairs this time; James was coming down at last.
"Joan, never mind about going to the kitchen; stay here and see to your father's breakfast."
The door opened and Colonel Ogden came in. He was very quiet, a bad sign; there was blood from a scratch on his chin, to which a pellet of cotton wool adhered.
"Coffee, dear?"
"Naturally. By the way, Mary, you'll oblige me by leaving a teacupful of hot water for me to shave with another time." He felt his scratch carefully.
"Joan, get your father the kidneys. Will you begin with kidneys or curried eggs?"