HIS BREAKFAST. "Ah, my child, you are late," said the Master of the Ceremonies, as Claire ran to meet him and kissed his cheek. "`Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.' It will do the same for you, my child, and add bloom to your cheek, though, of course, we cannot be early in the season." "I am a little late, papa dear," said Claire, ringing a tinkling bell, with the result that Isaac, in his striped jacket and the stiffest of white cravats, entered, closed the door behind him, and then stood statuesque, holding a brightly-polished kettle, emitting plenty of steam. "Any letters, Isaac?" "No, sir, none this morning," and then Isaac carefully poured a small quantity of the boiling water into the teapot, whose lid Claire had raised, and stood motionless while she poured it out again, and then unlocked a very small tea-caddy and spooned out three very small spoonfuls--one apiece, and none for the over-cleaned and de-silvered plated pot. This done, Isaac filled up, placed the kettle on the hob, fetched a Bible and prayer-book from a sideboard, placed them at one end of the table and went out. "Why is not Morton down?" said the MC sternly. "He came down quite an hour ago, papa. He must have gone for a walk. Shall we wait?" "Certainly not, my child." At that moment there was a little scuffling outside the door, which was opened directly after by Isaac, who admitted Eliza and a very angular-looking woman with two pins tightly held between her lips--pins that she had intended to transfer to some portion of her garments, but had not had time. These three placed themselves before three chairs by the door, and waited till the MC had gracefully replaced his snuff-box, and taken two steps to the table, where he and Claire sat down. Then the servants took their seats, and then "Master" opened the Bible to read in a slow, deliberate way, and as if he enjoyed the names, that New Testament chapter on genealogies which to youthful ears seemed to be made up of a constant repetition of the two words, "which was." This ended, all rose and knelt down, Isaac with the point of his elbow just touching the point of Eliza's elbow, for he comforted his conscience over this tender advance by the reflection that marriage, though distant, was a sacred thing; and he made up for his unspiritual behaviour to a great extent by saying the "Amens" in a much louder voice than Cook, and finished off in the short space of silence after the Master of the Ceremonies had read the last Collect, and when all were expected to continue their genuflexions till that personage sighed and made a movement as if to rise, by adding a short extempore prayer of his own, one which he had repeated religiously for the past four years without effect, the supplication being: "And finally, may we all get the arrears of our wages, evermore. Amen."