"It will do very well, thank you," said Rotha, attacking the piece of pie, which was also small.
"Didn't you want a bit of the mutton?"
"Mutton!" exclaimed Rotha, and again an angry colour shewed itself in her cheeks.
"Roast mutton and jelly and sweet potatoes. You hadn't only fish, had ye?
Don't ye like yaller potatoes? Car'lina potatoes?"
"Yes, I like them," said Rotha indifferently.
N. B. She had eaten them but a few times in her life, and thought them a prime delicacy.
"I'll bring you some if you like, and some of the meat."
"No, thank you," said Rotha, finishing her pie and depositing that plate with the rest.
"You'll have time enough," said Lesbia sympathizingly. "They won't come up stairs; they stays down to see company."
"No, thank you," said Rotha again; but a new pang seized her. Company!
Mr. Digby would be company. What if he should come?