ap.

The dinner-gong sounding through that quiet house brought him quickly to
his feet, a sense of sharpened appetite lending pleasing colour to the
thought of what the dining-hall afforded, for mine host believed in
setting a good table, and his hospitality was by no means frugal.

Dollops was already standing by his table, expectant eye upon the trim
maid who waited upon them, for during this little sojourn in the
Highlands Cleek had expressed a wish for the lad's company during meals,
and old Fairnish had told his spouse that "Misthair Deland were an unco'
queer pairrson tu wish the company of his mon wi' 'im at meal-time, but
so lang as he paid his bill prampt, 'twere nought of hees business."

And that was why Dollops was waiting now with that hungry eye of his
upon the plate of steaming soup which the maid was bringing to the
table. Only his respect for the man who had raised him to his present
status kept him from dropping into his seat and gulping the stuff down
straightaway.

Cleek smiled as he saw the lad's eager eye.

"Sit down, sit down, Dollops, and set to," he said with a laugh, laying
a hand upon the boy's sleeve with something of tenderness in the
gesture. "Your eyes are like hard-boiled eggs, they're popping out of
your head so. Hungry, I'll be bound."

"'Ungry--I means hungry, sir? ... starved's more like it!" gave back
Dollops between mouthfuls of hot soup. "Why, I'm that 'ungry me
backbone's well-nigh come rahnd to me front! Nuffink since tea--although
I must say as I nabbed a roll from the kitchen table when the cook
wasn't lookin', and there was a cold sossidge fairly talkin' ter me from
the plate in the larder. And so, as there weren't no one around, I just
whistled to 'im, and he 'opped off his platter quite tame-like. But fer
anything else!..." The last spoonful went down with a gulp.

"Dollops, Dollops! You'll be eating the wake up at your own funeral, you
young gourmand!" threw in Cleek laughingly. "You've a constitution like
an ostrich. I'm sure, if you were actually starving, you'd manage to
gnaw an umbrella--spokes and all!... Heigho! This is a queer world,
isn't it? Here's me sitting here in this little inn-place, on the top of
the Highlands, with the heart of me wandering away in other places, and
the soul of me sometimes hungry for the sight of other worlds across the
sea--to which I've closed the door of my own accord and shut the sight
of their dear blessedness forever from me!