"So I've heard; and Saltren told me they were monstrous fat and large."
"There is no catching them," observed the captain; "the water is clear, and they are wary. If ever I pump the pond dry, ma'am, you shall have a dish."
"Trout should be eaten when they are just out of the water," said Mrs. Saltren; "they lose their flavour when a day old. I suppose it will not be possible for me to have them trout you so kindly offer the same day they are ketched."
"Not possible if you are in London," answered the captain. "Perhaps you'd best come to Orleigh to eat 'em."
Then ensued a silence, broken at last by Mrs. Saltren, who remarked, with a sigh—
"There'll be no eating of them trout till the pump is got."
"That is true," sighed Tubb. "But then the money is sure to be raised wherewith to put up the water-wheel and pump. Just consider, ma'am, seven per cent. You've not thought of investing, have you, what you got by the sale of Chillacot?"
This was a direct question, and the captain was scared at his temerity in putting it. He ate a whole mouthful of his beard.
"'A fool and her money are soon parted,' says the proverb," answered Mrs. Saltren. "Consequently, I don't think I'll let my money go anywhere without me."
Captain Tubb drew his chair closer; and, instead of settling the matter at once, began a fresh allemand.
"What do you think of mutton here in London?"
"I don't relish it; and it is awfully dear, so is beef. Elevenpence and a shilling for what at Orleigh cost eightpence and ninepence. What fortunes them butchers must be making!"
