I saw by the papers he was to make his exodus from London,
so I telegraphed him to come here, and bring on a box of French novels
we had forgotten."
"One does sometimes forget the most important part of one's luggage,"
said Vaura.
"But," said Trevalyon, "I'll wager Bertram did not forget your mental
food."
"Not he, with his aldermanic taste for spicy dishes," said Vaura.
"No, the temptation would be too much for him, with the _piece de
resistance_, an uninteresting husband, side dish, paragon lover,
_entree_, neglected wife with flavourings thrown in, scandals, duels,
etc.," said Trevalyon.
"How well he knows the condiments," remarked their host in sly tones,
and rubbing his hands softly; "but talking of condiments, reminds one
of dinner, and that Everly should be here."
"I hear a footstep on the hill which doesn't grow fainter, fainter
still," said Mrs. Wingfield.
"Here we are again," said Sir Tilton Everly, entering, and shaking
hands with all, continued: "I hope, Bertram, I havn't kept your dinner
waiting."
"No, no, my dear fellow, my dinner waits for no man.
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