'tis the secret of self-possession. She is here as a duchess at court.'

They brought in Coningsby's meal, and he invited the stranger to join him.
The invitation was accepted with cheerfulness.

''Tis but simple fare,' said Coningsby, as the maiden uncovered the still
hissing bacon and the eggs, that looked like tufts of primroses.

'Nay, a national dish,' said the stranger, glancing quickly at the table,
'whose fame is a proverb. And what more should we expect under a simple
roof! How much better than an omelette or a greasy olla, that they would
give us in a posada! 'Tis a wonderful country this England! What a napkin!
How spotless! And so sweet; I declare 'tis a perfume. There is not a
princess throughout the South of Europe served with the cleanliness that
meets us in this cottage.'

'An inheritance from our Saxon fathers?' said Coningsby. 'I apprehend the
northern nations have a greater sense of cleanliness, of propriety, of
what we call comfort?'

'By no means,' said the stranger; 'the East is the land of the Bath. Moses
and Mahomet made cleanliness religion.'

'You will let me help you?' said Coningsby, offering him a plate which he
had filled.

'I thank you,' said the stranger, 'but it is one of my bread days. With
your permission this shall be my dish;' and he cut from the large loaf a
supply of crusts.