The Third Day

"I observe, dear Marchesa," said Mrs. Fothergill at breakfast on
Thursday morning, "that we still follow the English fashion in our
breakfast dishes. I have a notion that, in this particular
especially, we gross English show our inferiority to the more
spirituelles nations of the Continent, and I always feel a new
being after the light meal of delicious coffee and crisp bread and
delicate butter the first morning I awake in dear Paris."

"I wonder how it happens, then, that two goes of fish, a plateful
of omelette, and a round and a half of toast and marmalade are
necessary to repair the waste of tissue in dear England?" Van der
Roet whispered to Miss Macdonnell.

"It must be the gross air of England or the gross nature of the--"

The rest of Miss Macdonnell's remark was lost, as the Marchesa
cried out in answer to Mrs. Fothergill, "But why should we have
anything but English breakfast dishes in England? The defects of
English cookery are manifest enough, but breakfast fare is not
amongst them. In these England stands supreme; there is nothing to
compare with them, and they possess the crowning merit of being
entirely compatible with English life. I cannot say whether it may
be the effect of the crossing, or of the climate on this side, or
that the air of England is charged with some subtle stimulating
quality, given off in the rush and strain of strenuous national