“I’m delighted to hear you mention the drive as the cause of the appetite; for I must endeavor to induce you to repeat it and help me to eat a saddle of mutton that will be fit for Lucullus on Thursday.”
“I am in Mr. Ormonde’s hands.”
I was in an agony—another day from Mabel!
“Oh! Ormonde will do as I direct him; and I’ll tell you what we must conspire about to-night—to induce the ladies to drive over. I should be very pleased to show Miss Hawthorne a little this side of the county.”
I breathed again.
“You shall have my vote,” said the M.P.; “and, if I might dare suggest an amendment to the saddle, it would be in ‘chops.’”
“We might do the swell thing,” laughed the padre, “and have two dishes—an entrée; how magnificently that sounds! In any case I can say with Horace:
“Hinc tibi copia
Manabit ad plenum, benigno
Ruris bonorum opulenta cornu.”