“Law, Master Clive!” she said, “do ’ee eat some. Missis made it, you know she did;” and she insisted on bringing back the tart to him.
Lady Anne and Ethel laughed at this eagerness on the worthy old woman’s part. “Do ’ee eat some, Clive,” says Ethel, imitating honest Mrs. Hicks, who had left the room.
“It’s doosid good,” remarked Lord Farintosh.
“Then do ’ee eat some more,” said Miss Newcome: on which the young nobleman, holding out his plate, observed with much affability, that the cook of the lodgings was really a stunner for tarts.
“The cook! dear me, it’s not the cook!” cries Miss Ethel. “Don’t you remember the princess in the Arabian Nights, who was such a stunner for tarts, Lord Farintosh?”
Lord Farintosh couldn’t say that he did.
“Well, I thought not; but there was a princess in Arabia or China, or somewhere, who made such delicious tarts and custards that nobody’s could compare with them; and there is an old lady in Brighton who has the same wonderful talent. She is the mistress of this house.”
“And she is my aunt, at your lordship’s service,” said Mr. Clive, with great dignity.
“Upon my honour! did you make ’em, Lady Anne?” asked my lord.
“The Queen of Hearts made tarts!” cried out Miss Newcome, rather eagerly, and blushing somewhat.