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Updated: May 31, 2025
With this he took his leave. Going downstairs, he met Apollonie, who was just coming up with a supper-tray laden with delicate dishes for the sick child. "That is right," said the doctor; "it gives one an appetite only to look at it." "Yes, the poor child eats like a little bird," said Apollonie; "but Mrs. Rector says that there must be things to choose from in order to tempt her.
Violetta d'Isorella received him with a gracious lifting of her fingers to his lips; congratulating him on his escape, and on the good fortune of the day. She laughed at the Lenkensteins and the singular Englishman; sat down to a little supper-tray, and pouted humorously as she asked him to feed on confects and wine; the huge appetites of the insurgents had devoured all her meat and bread.
And the maid fled the kitchen, which had become practically dangerous, to attend on Innes's wants in the front parlour. Tantaene irae? Has the reader perceived the reason? Since Frank's coming there were no more hours of gossip over the supper-tray! All his blandishments were in vain; he had started handicapped on the race for Mrs. Elliott's favour.
I drew back the curtains and unfastened the shutter, which offered egress to the grounds, then, having rung for Mrs. Stott to remove the supper-tray, I sat down by the fire to await Munro's return, and began musing concerning the hopelessness of my position, the gulf of poverty and prejudice and struggle that lay between Helena and myself.
As the lady spoke, a servant-maid entered the apartment with the supper-tray, which the good vicar had ordered shortly after the arrival of his guest.
Ishmael judged that Nicky had had enough excitement for one day, and so, though not as any further punishment, sent him to bed with a supper-tray instead of letting him come down. He recounted the afternoon's happenings at supper and confessed himself hopelessly puzzled.
Lady Isabel put forth her hand, and Miss Carlyle condescended to touch the tips of her fingers. "I hope you are well, ma'am," she jerked out. Mr. Carlyle left them together, and went back to search for some trifles which had been left in the carriage. Miss Carlyle led the way to a sitting-room, where the supper-tray was laid.
The servant came in with the supper-tray, and laid it on the table. "Is the cold pork to come in?" asked she. "I have not brought it. I thought, perhaps, you'd not care to have it in to-night, ma'am, as Mr. Jan's out." Miss Deborah cast her eyes on the tray. There was a handsome piece of cheese, and a large glass of fresh celery.
Her surmise did not remain baseless; evidence of undeniable strength came to its support, yet all was so vague so unserviceable. She opened the printed sheets that Quarrier had given her and for a few minutes read with interest. Then her eyes and thoughts wandered. Her servant knocked and entered, asking if she should remove the supper-tray. In looking up at the girl, Mrs.
He would have conveyed an atmosphere of bustle to the Egyptian pyramids. Sometimes carrying his own supper-tray, arranged for two, he would march into my room. At first, resenting his familiarity, I would hint at my desire to be alone, would explain that I was busy. "You fire away, Shakespeare Redivivus," he would reply. "Don't delay the tragedy. Why should London wait? I'll keep quiet."
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