ng coffee-pot, she
poured its contents on the ground. Then she took up a smaller pan,
containing some fried potatoes, hot and savory, and these she threw after
the meat.

The bishop and Corona now reached the table and seated themselves. Mrs.
Perkenpine, her face as hard and immovable as the trunk of an oak,
approached, and placed before them some slices of cold bread, some butter,
and two glasses of water.

Still earnestly talking, her eyes sometimes dimmed with tears of
excitement as she descanted upon her favorite theories, Corona began to
eat what was before her. She buttered a slice of bread, and if the bishop
chanced to say anything she ate some of it. She drank some water, and she
talked and talked and talked. She did not know what she was eating. It
might have been a Lord Mayor's dinner or a beggar's crust; her mind took
no cognizance of such an unimportant matter. As for her companion, he knew
very well what he was eating, and as he gazed about him, and saw that
there were no signs of anything more, his heart sank lower and lower; but
he ate slice after slice of bread, for he was hungry, and he hoped that
when the two young men came to the table they would call for more
substantial food.

But long before they arrived Corona finished her meal and rose.

"Now that we have had our supper," she said, "let us go where we shall not
be annoyed by the smell of food, and continue our conversation."

"Is it possible," thought the bishop, "that she can be annoyed by the
smell of hot meat, potatoes, and coffee? I suppose the delicious odor
comes from the other supper-table. Heavens! Why wasn't I asked there?"

There was a dreadful storm when Raybold and Clyde came to the table; but
Mrs. Perkenpine remained hard and immovable through it all.

"Your sister and that tramp has been here," said she, "and this is all
there is left. If you keep your hogs in your house, you can't expect to
count on your victuals."

Some more coffee was made, and that, with bread, composed the young men's
supper.

When Arthur Raybold had finished his meal, he walked to the spot where
Corona and the bishop were conversing, and stood there silently. He was
afraid to interrupt his sister by speaking to her, but he thought that his
presence might have an effect upon her companion. It did have an effect,
for the bishop seized the opportunity created by the arrival of a third
party, excused himself, and departed at the first break in Corona's f