zeal for my comfort; there were even flowers on my table, without a doubt from Kirby Hall.
And in another matter the squire had not misled me: the woman was an excellent plain cook. I expected ham and eggs. Sure enough, this was my dish, but done to a turn. The eggs were new and all unbroken, the ham so lean and yet so tender, that I would not have exchanged my humble, hearty meal for the best dinner served that night in London. It made a new man of me, after my long journey and my cold, damp drive.
“Not that I know of.”
“Of Saunderson-stooard?”
“No.”
“Or Crookes-quartermaster.”
“Never.”
“Nor yet of Ready - a passenger?”
“No.”
“It’s no use goin’ on,” said the captain folding up the paper.
“None whatever, sir,” said the mate
“Ready! Ready!” I repeated. “I do seem to have heard that name before. Won’t you give me another chance ?”