Aunt Pen's was her breakfast,
and the peace of her entire day depended upon the success of that meal.
Therefore, being down rather late, the worthy lady concentrated her
energies upon the achievement of a copious repast, and, trusting to
former lessons, left Debby to her own resources for a few fatal moments.
After the flutter occasioned by being scooped into her seat by a
severe-nosed waiter, Debby had only courage enough left to refuse tea
and coffee and accept milk. That being done, she took the first familiar
viand that appeared, and congratulated herself upon being able to get
her usual breakfast. With returning composure, she looked about her and
began to enjoy the buzz of voices, the clatter of knives and forks, and
the long lines of faces all intent upon the business of the hour; but
her peace was of short duration. Pausing for a fresh relay of toast,
Aunt Pen glanced toward her niece with the comfortable conviction that
her appearance was highly creditable; and her dismay can be imagined,
when she beheld that young lady placidly devouring a great cup of
brown-bread and milk before the eyes of the assembled multitude. The
poor lady choked in her coffee, and between her gasps whispered irefully
behind her napkin,--
"For Heaven's sake, Dora, put away that mess! The Ellenboroughs are
directly opposite, watching everything you do.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93