The landlord came bustling in with pigeons roasted on the spit, a prime leg of mutton, a hot veal and ham pie and a cold collation, which made Candida think that there was enough to feed a Regiment of soldiers rather than two passing travellers.
She chose a little of the veal and ham pie and noted that his Lordship was prepared to sample not one but quite a number of the dishes.
“Your wife is a good cook,” he said to the landlord, “convey her my compliments and tell her she never disappoints me on my various visits.”
“’Tis my mother, my Lord, who does the cooking. She used to be in service before she married my father and she still knows how to tempt the palate of a gentleman like yourself.”
“She does indeed,” Lord Manville smiled. “And now, what wine have you brought me?”
“Your favou
