em well, as he now placed his eyes on
them for the third time. They were old enemies of his, and his brow
again became black as he looked at them. The scraps in fact consisted
of two drumsticks of a fowl and some indescribable bone out of the
back of the same. The original bird had no doubt first revealed
all its glories to human eyes,--presuming the eyes of the cook to
be inhuman--in Mrs. Mason's "boodoor." Then, on the dish before
the lady, there were three other morsels, black-looking and very
suspicious to the eye, which in the course of conversation were
proclaimed to be ham,--broiled ham. Mrs. Mason would never allow
a ham in its proper shape to come into the room, because it is an
article upon which the guests are themselves supposed to operate
with the carving-knife. Lastly, on the dish before Miss Creusa there
reposed three potatoes.

The face of Mr. Mason became very black as he looked at the banquet
which was spread upon his board, and Mrs. Mason, eyeing him across
the table, saw that it was so. She was not a lady who despised such
symptoms in her lord, or disregarded in her valour the violence of
marital storms. She had quailed more than once or twice under rebuke
occasioned by her great domestic virtue, and knew that her husband,
though he might put up with much as regarded his own comfort, and
that of his children, could be very angry at injuries done to his
household honour and character as a hospitable English country
gentleman.

Consequently the lady smiled and tried to look self-satisfied as
she invited her guest to eat. "This is ham," said she with a little
simper, "broiled ham, Mr. Dockwrath; and there is chicken at the
other end; I think they call it--devilled."

"Shall I assist the young ladies to anything first?" said the
attorney, wishing to be polite.

"Nothing, thank you," said Miss Penelope, with a very stiff bow.
She also knew that Mr. Dockwrath was an attorney from Hamworth, and
considered herself by no means bound to hold any sort of conversation
with him.

"My daughters only eat bread and butter in the middle of the day,"
said the lady. "Creusa, my dear, will you give Mr. Dockwrath a
potato. Mr. Mason, Mr. Dockwrath will probably take a bit of that
chicken."

"I would recommend him to follow the girls' example, and confine
himself to the bread and butter," said the master of the house,
pushing about the scraps with his knife and fork. "There is nothing
here for him to eat."

"M