With these words, the fat boy led the way downstairs; his pretty companion captivating all the waiters and angering all the chambermaids as she followed him to the eating-room.

There was the meat-pie of which the youth had spoken so feelingly, and there were, moreover, a steak, and a dish of potatoes, and a pot of porter.

“Sit down,” said the fat boy. “Oh, my eye, how prime! I am so hungry.”

Having apostrophised his eye, in a species of rapture, five or six times, the youth took the head of the little table, and Mary seated herself at the bottom.

“Will you have some of this?” said the fat boy, plunging into the pie up to the very ferules of the knife and fork.

“A little, if you please,” replied Mary.