"
"No, really, I can't take any tea; in fact, I couldn't take any
lunch out of vexation at having to put you off, my dear Marchesa."
"Oh, these accidents will occur. We were just discussing the best
way of getting round them," said the Marchesa. "Now, dear,"
--speaking to Mrs. Sinclair--"let's have your plan. Mrs. Gradinger
has fastened like a leech on the Canon and Mrs. Wilding, and won't
hear a word of what you have to say."
"Well, my scheme is just an amplification of your mathematical
illustrations, that we should all learn to cook for ourselves. I
regard it no longer as impossible, or even difficult, since you
have informed us that you are a mistress of the art. We'll start a
new school of cookery, and you shall teach us all you know."
"Ah, my dear Laura, you are like certain English women in the
hunting field. You are inclined to rush your fences," said the
Marchesa with a deprecatory gesture. "And just look at the people
gathered here in this room. Wouldn't they--to continue the horsey
metaphor--be rather an awkward team to drive?"
"Not at all, if you had them in suitable surroundings.
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