It was a
delicious meal, no doubt of that, and at least Stephen and Rosamond did
justice to it.
"But you're not eating anything yourself, man," remonstrated Stephen,
as Richard pressed upon him more cold fowl and delicate sandwiches
supplemented by a salad such as connoisseurs partake of with sighs of
appreciation, and with fruit which one must marvel to look upon.
"You haven't been watching me, that's evident," returned Richard,
demonstrating his ability to consume food with relish by seizing upon a
sandwich and making away with it in short order.
Roberta rose. "I can eat no more," she said, "with that wonderful sky
before me out there." She escaped to the porch.
They all turned to exclaim at a gorgeous colouring beginning in the
west, heralding the sunset which was coming. Rosamond ran out also,
Stephen following. Richard produced cigars.
"Have a smoke out here, Gray," said he, "while I put away the stuff. No,
no help, thank you. James will be here, by and by, to pack it properly."
"Stephen"--Rosamond stood at the edge of the hill below the
porch--"bring your cigar down here; it's simply perfect.
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