'I have no taste for it,' replied his sister, who had become
absent-minded.

'There's a certain dishonesty about it, moreover,' Mr. Athel pursued.
'Porridge should be eaten with salt. Milk _and_ sugar--didn't I hear a
suggestion of golden syrup, more honestly called treacle, yesterday?
These things constitute evasion, self-deception at the least. In your
case, Miss Hood, the regimen is clearly fruitful of ill results.'

'Of what kind, Mr. Athel?'

'Obviously it leads to diminution of appetite. You were in the habit of
eating a satisfactory breakfast; at present some two ounces of that
farinaceous mess--'

'My dear Philip!' interposed Mrs. Rossall, still absently.

I hold that I am within my rights,' asserted her brother. 'If Miss Hood
goes down into Yorkshire in a state of emaciation--'

Wilfrid and the twins showed amusement.

'To begin with,' pursued Mr. Athel, 'I hold that sweet food the first
thing in the morning is a mistake; the appetite is checked in an
artificial way, and impaired. Even coffee--'

'You would recommend a return to flagons of ale?' suggested Wilfrid.

'I am not sure that it wasn't better dietetically.'