COMMUTER'S WIFE 115 



as if blown there by a storm. I must acknowledge 

 that we were not behaving in a conventional British 

 breakfast manner. Evan had stuck roses in my 

 hair, and I had put one in every buttonhole of his 

 velveteen coat, which he wore over a sweater, while 

 a single bud was tucked over father's nearest ear 

 a fact of which he was blissfully unconscious, as 

 he gave Martha the kindly and fraternal smile with 

 which he invariably greeted her over the top of his 

 paper, having refrained from handshaking since 

 the night of our arrival. 



" The steak is gone, Mrs. Evan, stole and gone, 

 ma'am, by what ways it isn't for me to say. It 

 was as fine a cut as ever I've handled, leastwise in 

 this 'ouse. Two and a quarter in weight, without 

 the end that I always trims off for the soup stock, 

 Mrs. Evan. It was there when I cast my eye 

 through the ice-chest after last night's dinner; this 

 mornin' it was gone." 



" Could the dogs have helped themselves to it ? " 

 suggested Evan, chuckling at Martha's perturbation. 

 " You might have taken it out without thinking and 

 left it on the table, you know," he said to her. " I 

 remember once long ago that you rowed a lot 

 about my taking a cold fowl and a ham shank to 

 make a feast for some boating chaps, and my 



