Walrond rather sharply.
"The beef is beautifully done."
"Oh!" ejaculated one of the girls who had got the calcined bit, "why,
mother, you said it was burnt yourself."
"Never mind what I said," replied Mrs. Walrond severely, "especially as
I was mistaken. It is very rude of your father to make remarks about the
meat."
"Well, something _is_ burning, my love."
Janey, who was sitting next to Anthony, paused from her meal to sniff,
then exclaimed in a voice of delight:
"Oh! it is Anthony's coat tails. Just look, they are turning quite
brown. Why, Anthony, you must be as beautifully done as the beef. If you
can sit there and say nothing, you are a Christian martyr wasted, that's
all."
Anthony sprang up, murmuring that he thought there was something wrong
behind, which on examination there proved to be. The end of it was that
the chairs were all pushed downwards, with the result that for the rest
of that meal there was a fiery gulf fixed between him and Barbara which
made further confidences impossible. So he had to talk of other matters.
Of these, as it chanced, he had something to say.
A letter had arrived that morning from his elder brother George, who
was an officer in a line regiment.
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