rs; but about that silence, and the pile of half-opened letters on
his right, was a hint of autocracy.

"Be informal--do what you like, dress as you like, sit where you like,
eat what you like, drink tea or coffee, but----" Each glance of his
eyes, each sentence of his sparing, semi-genial talk, seemed to repeat
that "but".

At the foot of the breakfast-table sat Mrs. Pendyce behind a silver urn
which emitted a gentle steam. Her hands worked without ceasing amongst
cups, and while they worked her lips worked too in spasmodic utterances
that never had any reference to herself. Pushed a little to her left
and entirely neglected, lay a piece of dry toast on a small white plate.
Twice she took it up, buttered a bit of it, and put it down again. Once
she rested, and her eyes, which fell on Mrs. Bellow, seemed to say: "How
very charming you look, my dear!" Then, taking up the sugar-tongs, she
began again.

On the long sideboard covered with a white cloth reposed a number of
edibles only to be found amongst that portion of the community which
breeds creatures for its own devouring. At one end of this row of viands
was a large game pie with a triangular gap in the pastry; at the other,
on two oval dishes, lay four cold partridges in various stages of
decomposition. Behind them a silver basket of openwork design was
occupied by three bunches of black, one bunch of white grapes, and a
silver grape-cutter, which performed no function (it was so blunt), but
had once belonged to a Totteridge and wore their crest.

No servants were in the room, but the side-door was now and again
opened, and something brought in, and this suggested that behind the
door persons were collected, only waiting to be called upon. It was, in
fact, as though Mr. Pendyce had said: "A butler and two footmen at least
could hand you things, but this is a simple country house."

At times a male guest rose, napkin in hand, and said to a lady: "Can I
get you anything from the sideboard?" Being refused, he went and filled
his own plate. Three dogs--two fox-terriers and a decrepit Skye circled
round uneasily, smelling at the visitors' napkins. And there went up
a hum of talk in which sentences like these could be distinguished:
"Rippin' stand that, by the wood. D'you remember your rockettin'
woodcock last year, Jerry?" "And the dear old Squire never touched
a feather! Did you, Squire?" "Dick--Dick! Bad dog!--come and do your
tricks. Trust-trust! Paid for! Isn't