"Yes, do so pray. Anything to be had," he repeated with a semblance of anxious hospitality, "of course there is something, Olivia is not to be starved (with an uneasy smile), eh, Olivia? But do not expect such feasting as you have at Silverton; we are plain housekeepers here at present, Eugene and I. My appetite is gone--irretrievably gone--can scarcely swallow a morsel, and Eugene is not particular. Bachelor fare suits him--Eh, Eugene?" he added with a facetious chuckle, "is not this the case?" "Certainly, Sir, _at present_" his son replied with a significant laugh, in which Mrs. de Burgh joined, whilst both stole a glance at Mary, who cast down her eyes and blushed, though a smile at the same time played upon her lips. A servant then entered, and in answer to the bell, announced that luncheon was on the table. Mr. Trevor by the manoeuvre of Mrs. de Burgh, was made to offer his arm to Mary, whilst Eugene having smiled expressively upon her as she passed, followed with his cousin. "What in the world induced you to put us in this dungeon of a room?" he enquired, turning to the butler, who with one other servant composed their attendance, as they entered the vast dining room, the door being thrown open for their reception. "Yes, the small room would have done perfectly," said his father, glancing somewhat uneasily at the moderate fire burning not very effectually in the cold, bright, spacious grate, "but you and I can dine here Eugene, to-night--and the other fire," looking at the servant as he seated himself at the table, "may be let out." "Very well, Sir," said the man, as he lifted up the cover of the dish placed before his master at the top of the long table, which might well have accommodated fourteen, a space being thereby occasioned between himself and Mary, and the couple at the bottom, of very formidable extent; and which seemed irresistably to excite Mrs. de Burgh's mirth, while Eugene was half angry, half amused at the stupidity and ridiculous nature of the arrangement. "What have you there, Eugene?" Mr. Trevor then demanded, as the bottom cover was, at the same moment, removed. "Potatoes, Sir, hot potatoes, I am glad to say, for we require heat, here, of some kind, excessively. I shall be glad to yield you and Miss Seaham, the benefit of their vicinity, and save you the trouble of that joint. Roland, bring that mutton here," and the small loin being placed before Eugene, he proceeded to help the ladies, (Eugene was always a silent observer of these little points,) according to his, now not inexperienced, estimate of their several tastes and appetites. "None for me, Eugene, none for me," Mr. Trevor said, surveying Mary's small supply, not uncomplacently, and helping himself to a potatoe. "Never eat meat at this time, you know, and at any time but with a poor relish. Youth, and health, and spirits, make the best sauces. Eh, Miss Seaham?" in answer to Mary's glance of pitying concern.