white-clothed, white-capped carver. We watched the process--as did every
one present--with an interest not entirely gluttonous, for it added a
pleasant touch to the picturesque old room, with its sanded floor, its
homely, pew-like boxes, its high-backed settles and the friendly
portrait of the "great lexicographer" that beamed down on us from the
wall.

"This is a very different affair from your great, glittering modern
restaurant," Mr. Marchmont remarked.

"It is indeed," said Blackmore, "and if this is the way in which our
ancestors lived, it would seem that they had a better idea of comfort
than we have."

There was a short pause, during which Mr. Marchmont glared hungrily at
the pudding; then Thorndyke said:

"So you refused to listen to reason, Mr. Blackmore?"

"Yes. You see, Mr. Marchmont and his partner had gone into the matter
and decided that there was nothing to be done. Then I happened to
mention the affair to Reuben Hornby, and he urged me to ask your advice
on the case."

"Like his impudence," growled Marchmont, "to meddle with my client."

"On which," continued Blackmore, "I spoke to Mr. Marchmont and he agreed
that it was worth while to take your opinion on the case, though he
warned me to cherish no hopes, as the affair was not really within your
specialty."