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Where do you think I am now? Why, at Brighton. "Val's a brick. Yesterday was our Exeat, and he came down to Harrow, called for me and Cray, and brought us here to the Old Ship Hotel. We two chose the dinner, and in twenty minutes that dinner was gone like a dream. Val and Cray made the unlucky waiter laugh till he dropped the butter-boat. The waiter was a proud man I never saw a prouder.
Maitre Guilot was a little, fat, red-nosed fellow, with twinkling black eyes, and a mouth irascible as that of a cake-baker of Lerna. His heart was of the right paste, however, and full as a butter-boat of the sweet sauce of good nature, which he was ready to pour over the heads of all his fellows who quietly submitted to his dictation.
Poor woman! she had done her best, and it was hard that she should suffer. One little effort she made at the moment to induce Elizabeth to carry round the sauce, but Grandairs had at once crushed it; he had rushed at the girl and taken the butter-boat from her hand. Mrs Mackenzie had seen it all; but what could she do, poor soul? The thing was badly managed in every way.
"Holly, sir," replied the quiet voice of Milly. "That's what I say myself, sir," interposed Mr. William, striking in with the butter-boat. "Berries is so seasonable to the time of year! Brown gravy!" "Another Christmas come, another year gone!" murmured the Chemist, with a gloomy sigh.
Without any show of hurry or noise, or any show of herself even, she was so calm and quiet, Milly set the dishes she had brought upon the table, Mr. William, after much clattering and running about, having only gained possession of a butter-boat of gravy, which he stood ready to serve. "What is that the old man has in his arms?" asked Mr. Redlaw, as he sat down to his solitary meal.
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