case.

VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE FAMILY SUPPER.

"Now father, let's have a bottle of wine, eh?" Charlie vociferously
suggested.

Mr Orgreave hesitated: "You'd better ask your mother."

"Really, Charlie--" Mrs Orgreave began.

"Oh yes!" Charlie cut her short. "Right you are, Martha!"

The servant, who had stood waiting for a definite command during this
brief conflict of wills, glanced interrogatively at Mrs Orgreave and,
perceiving no clear prohibition in her face, departed with a smile to
get the wine. She was a servant of sound prestige, and had the
inexpressible privilege of smiling on duty. In her time she had fought
lively battles of repartee with all the children from Charlie downwards.
Janet humoured Martha, and Martha humoured Mrs Orgreave.

The whole family (save absent Marian) was now gathered in the
dining-room, another apartment on whose physiognomy were written in
cipher the annals of the vivacious tribe. Here the curtains were drawn,
and all the interest of the room centred on the large white gleaming
table, about which the members stood or sat under the downward radiance
of a chandelier. Beyond the circle illuminated by the shaded chandelier
could be discerned dim forms of furniture and of pictures, with a glint
of high light here and there burning on the corner of some gold frame.
Mr and Mrs Orgreave sat at either end of the table. Alicia stood by
her father, with one arm half round his neck. Tom sat near his mother.
Janet and Hilda sat together, flanked by Jimmie and Johnnie, who stood,
having pushed chairs away. Charlie and Edwin stood opposite. The table
seemed to Edwin to be heaped with food: cold and yet rich remains of
bird and beast; a large fruit pie, opened; another intact; some
puddings; cheese; sandwiches; raw fruit; at Janet's elbow were cups and
saucers and a pot of coffee; a large glass jug of lemonade shone near
by; plates, glasses, and cutlery were strewn about irregularly. The
effect upon Edwin was one of immense and careless prodigality; it
intoxicated him; it made him feel that a grand profuseness was the
finest thing in life. In his own home the supper consisted of cheese,
bread, and water, save on Sundays, when cold sausages were generally
added, to make a feast. But the idea of the price of living as the
Orgreaves lived seriously startled the prudence in him. Imagine that
expense always persisting, day after day, night after night! There were
cert