"So you have all your meals here?" she ventured.

"Ay," he said. "I have what I call my meals here."

"Why," she cried, "don't you enjoy them?"

"I eat 'em," he said.

"What time do you have tea?" she inquired.

"Four o'clock," said he. "Sharp!"

"But it's a quarter to, now!" she exclaimed, pointing to a clock with
weights at the end of brass chains and a long pendulum. "And didn't you
say your servant was out?"

"Ay," he mysteriously lied. "Her's out. But her'll come back. Happen
her's gone to get a bit o' fish or something."

"Fish! Do you always have fish for tea?"

"I have what I'm given," he replied. "I fancy a snack for my tea.
Something tasty, ye know."

"Why," she said, "you're just like me. I adore tea. I'd sooner have tea
than any other meal of the day. But I never yet knew a servant who
could get something tasty every day. Of course, it's quite easy if you
know how to do it; but servants don't--that is to say, as a rule--but I
expect you've got a very good one."