Around this feast the whole party soon collected, and none of them sighed
for Russian soups or French ragouts; for the fact is that under the title
of boiled beef there exist two things, one of which, without any great
impropriety, might be called junk; but this was the powdered beef of our
ancestors, a huge piece just slightly salted in the house itself, so that
the generous juice remained in it, but the piquant slices, with the mealy
potatoes, made a delightful combination. The glasses were filled with
home-brewed ale, sparkling and clear and golden as the finest Madeira.
They all ate manfully, stimulated by the genial hostess. Even Mary
outshone all her former efforts, and although she couldn't satisfy Mrs.
Gilbert, she declared she had never eaten so much in all her life. This
set good Mrs. Gilbert's cheeks all aglow with simple, honest
satisfaction.
Hope drove Mary home in the dog-cart. He was a happy man, but she could
hardly be called a happy woman. She was warm and cold by turns. She had
got her friend back, and that was a comfort, but she was not treating him
with confidence; indeed, she was passively deceiving him, and that
chilled her; but then it would not be for long, and that comforted her,
and yet even when the day should come for the great doors of Clifford
Hall to fly open to her, would not a sad, reproachful look from dear Mr.
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