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Page 61
"If you have eaten them already, I consider that you have taken an
unfair advantage, a very unfair advantage."
"Here is mine!" exclaimed Dicky nobly. "I hope I can deny myself, Mrs.
Portheris, to that extent."
"And mine," I echoed; "but really, Mrs. Portheris----"
Another pressure of Dicky's hand reminded me--I am ashamed to confess
it--that if Mrs. Portheris was bent upon the unnecessary consumption of
Roman tallow there was nothing in her past treatment of either of us to
induce us to prevent her. The dictates of humanity, I know, should have
influenced us otherwise, in connection with tallow, but they seemed for
the moment to have faded as completely out of our bosoms as they did out
of the early Roman persecutors! It seemed to me that all my country's
wrongs at the hands of Mrs. Portheris rose up and clamoured to be
avenged, and Dicky told me afterward that he felt just the same way.
"Then I have done you an injustice," she continued; "I apologize, I am
sure, and I find that I have my own candle, thank you. It is adhering to
the side of my bonnet."
We were perfectly silent.
"Perhaps I ought to try and wait a little longer," Mrs. Portheris
hesitated, "but I feel such a sinking, and I assure you I have fallen
away. My garments are quite loose."
"Of course it depends," said Dicky scientifically, "upon the amount of
carbon the system has in reserve. Personally I think I can hold out a
little longer. I had an excellent breakfast this m----, the day we came
here. But if I felt a sinking----"
"_Waugh!_" said Mrs. Portheris.
"Have you--have you _begun_?" I exclaimed in agony, while Dicky shook in
silence.
"I have," replied Mrs. Portheris hurriedly; "where--where is the
eucalyptus? Ah! I have it!"
"_Ben-en-euh!_ It is nutritive, I am sure, but it requires a cordial."
The darkness for some reason seemed a little less black and the silence
less oppressive.
"I have only eaten about three inches," remarked Mrs. Portheris
presently. Dicky and I were incapable of conversation--"but I--but I
cannot go on at present. It is really not nice."
"An overdone flavour, hasn't it?" asked Dicky, between gasps.
"Very much so! Horribly! But the eucalyptus will, I hope, enable me to
extract some benefit from it. I think I'll lie down again." And we heard
the sound of a cork restored to its bottle as Mrs. Portheris returned to
the tomb. It was quite half an hour before she woke up, declaring that a
whole night had passed and that she was more famished than ever. "But,"
she added, "I feel it impossible to go on with the candle. There is
something about the wick----"
"I know," said Dicky sympathetically, "unless you are born in Greenland,
you cannot really enjoy them. There is an alternative, Mrs. Portheris,
but I didn't like to mention it----"
"I know," she replied, "shoe leather. I have read of that, too, and I
think it would be an improvement. Have you got a pocket-knife, Mr. Dod?"
Dicky produced it without a pang and we heard the rapid sound of an
unbuttoning shoe. "I had these made to order at two guineas, in the
Burlington Arcade," said Mrs. Portheris regretfully.
"Then," said Dicky gravely, groping to hand her the knife, "they will be
of good kid, and probably tender."
"I hope so, indeed," said Mrs. Portheris; "we must all have some. Will
you--will you _carve_, Mr. Dod?"
I remembered with a pang how punctilious they were in England about
asking gentlemen to perform this duty, and I received one more
impression of the permanence of British ideas of propriety. But Dicky
declined; said he couldn't undertake it--for a party, and that Mrs.
Portheris must please help herself and never mind him, he would take
anything there was, a little later, with great hospitality. However, she
insisted, and my portion, I know, was a generous one, a slice off the
ankle. Mrs. Portheris begged us to begin; she said it was so cheerless
eating by one's self, and made her feel quite greedy.
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