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Updated: May 17, 2025
Halfman eyed the viands with approval, while Evander returned gravely Mrs. Satchell's florid bobs and greetings. "I saw to it last night," he went on, "that Harby was revictualled. You pinched us, sir, you pared us; our larder was as lean as a stork's leg, but to-day we can eat our fill." And, indeed, the table now being spread by Mrs. Satchell's directions bore out the assertion of Halfman.
Tiffany was sorely tempted to smile all over her face as she listened, but Mistress Satchell's temper was short and her arm long, so she kept her countenance as she answered, shortly: "He is little." This Mistress Satchell swiftly countered with the affirmation: "He is great." Tiffany thrust again. "He is naught." Again Dame Satchell parried.
He turned with something of a yawn to Thoroughgood. "Why a devil did you press gossip cook into the service?" Thoroughgood shook his head protestingly. "Nay, the virago volunteered," he explained, with a look that seemed to supplement speech in the suggestion that it were best to let Mistress Satchell have her own way. This was evidently Mistress Satchell's own view of the matter.
"Will you please to take this chair, sir?" he said, lifting his father's arm-chair forward a little: "you'll find it easy." "No, thank you, I never sit in easy-chairs," said the old gentleman, seating himself on a small chair near the door. "Do you know, Mrs. Poyser sit down, pray, both of you I've been far from contented, for some time, with Mrs. Satchell's dairy management.
Pretty Tiffany made a dainty grimace as she answered: "I think I am pleasing enough to behold, yet he gave me no more than a glance when he gave me good-day." Mistress Satchell's ample bulk swayed with indignation. "He is a lad of taste, I tell you. Why should he waste his gaze on such small goods when there was nobler ware anigh? He smiled all over his face when he greeted me."
Even Ingrow's readiness found him something at a loss for an answer. He looked as if he feared lest dame Satchell might take him in an embrace. Brilliana, now that all the glasses were charged, decided that the company had tasted enough of Mrs. Satchell's humors. "I thank you, Mistress Satchell," she said, quietly, and Mrs.
A most unmilitary titter rippled along the rank but broke upon the rock of Mrs. Satchell's anger. It might have seemed to many that it were impossible for the dame's cheeks to be any redder, but Mistress Satchell's visage showed that nature could still work miracles.
"If you love me, leave him to me." And, indeed, her angry eyes shone warranty that the offender would fare badly at her hands. Halfman waved her aside with a gesture of impatience. "Mistress Satchell," he protested, "you are a valiant woman, but a rampant amazon." Dame Satchell's cheeks glowed a deeper crimson, and her variable anger raged from Clupp to Halfman.
Satchell's manner even as the words of it aped her matter, but the dame was too pleased with herself and the world to heed what it was that set the gentlemen laughing. "So, so," Radlett hummed approval. "Mrs. Satchell, will you ride with me to the King?" Mrs. Satchell dipped him a swimming reverence, but she shook her head decisively. "Your honor means well, but I cannot leave my lady.
Satchell's cream and butter will bear comparison with yours." "I can't say, sir, I'm sure. It's seldom I see other folks's butter, though there's some on it as one's no need to see the smell's enough." "Ah, now this I like," said Mr. Donnithorne, looking round at the damp temple of cleanliness, but keeping near the door.
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