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This practical authority confused me very much by saying I had the arm of a blacksmith. If he could have known how nearly the compliment lost him his pupil, I doubt if he would have paid it. There was a supper-tray after we got home at night, and I think we should all have enjoyed ourselves, but for a rather disagreeable domestic occurrence. Mr.
If the master happened to be in one of his desperate humors, he would read the most damnable nonsense: of how the Atlantic Ocean had caught fire, so that the people were living on boiled codfish; or how the heavens had got torn over America, so that angels fell right on to somebody's supper-tray.
Then Charlesworth came and told me, sir, and of course I went to the study at once, and then I saw that, wherever Mr. Herapath might be then, he certainly had been home." "You judged that from what?" asked Barthorpe. "Well, sir, it's been the rule to leave a supper-tray out for Mr. Herapath. Not much, sir whisky and soda, a sandwich or two, a dry biscuit. I saw that he'd had something, sir."
I shall look to the books a bit, and then turn in. Good night, Miss Deborah; good-night, Miss Amilly." "Good-night," they answered. Amilly drew to the fire. The chilly rain of the afternoon had caused them to have one lighted. She put her feet on the fender, feeling the warmth comfortable. Deborah sent the supper-tray away, and then left the room.
There she ate all her meals, in the condescending company of Miss Royle. What if the telephone message meant that henceforth she was to eat downstairs? Standing on one foot she waited developments, and concealed her eagerness by snapping her underlip against her teeth with one busy forefinger. Her spirits fell when Thomas appeared with the supper-tray.
Kitteridge pointed to the supper-tray and then indicated the coachman. "He came in as usual, miss," he replied. "Or rather an hour later than usual. Mountain brought him home at one o'clock, and he saw him let himself in with his latch-key." Peggie Wynne turned to the coachman. "You're sure that he entered the house?" she asked. "As sure as I could be, miss," replied Mountain.
But it would be tedious to recount the names of all the men of letters and artists whom Frances Burney had an opportunity of seeing and hearing. Colman, Twining, Harris, Baretti, Hawkesworth, Reynolds, Barry, were among those who occasionally surrounded the tea-table and supper-tray at her father's modest dwelling. This was not all. The distinction which Dr.
Herapath, as you've no doubt observed, is a bit strict in the matter of rules, and it's one of his rules that everybody in the house must be in bed by eleven-thirty. No one was ever to sit up for him on any occasion. That's why this supper-tray was always left ready. His usual time for coming in when he'd been at the House was twelve o'clock."
'What's that you're saying about murder? asked Mrs Cheswardine as she came into the large drawing-room, carrying the supper-tray. 'Put it down here, said her husband, referring to the supper-tray, and pointing to a little table which stood two legs off and two legs on the hearth-rug.
In England, where digestions are better than here, and where people eat more heavily, "the supper-tray" is an institution, and suppers are generally spread in every English country house; and we may acknowledge the fact that the supper the little supper so dear to the hearts of our friends of the last century seems to be coming again into fashion here.