Publisher's Synopsis
Oliver seemed altogether depressed at breakfast, half an hour later. His mother, an old lady of nearlyeighty, who never appeared till noon, seemed to see it at once, for after a look or two at him and aword, she subsided into silence behind her plate.It was a pleasant little room in which they sat, immediately behind Oliver's own, and was furnished, according to universal custom, in light green. Its windows looked out upon a strip of garden at theback, and the high creeper-grown wall that separated that domain from the next. The furniture, too, was of the usual sort; a sensible round table stood in the middle, with three tall arm-chairs, with theproper angles and rests, drawn up to it; and the centre of it, resting apparently on a broad roundcolumn, held the dishes. It was thirty years now since the practice of placing the dining-room abovethe kitchen, and of raising and lowering the courses by hydraulic power into the centre of thedining-table, had become universal in the houses of the well-to-do. The floor consisted entirely ofthe asbestos cork preparation invented in America, noiseless, clean, and pleasant to both foot andeye.Mabel broke the silence."And your speech to-morrow?" she asked, taking up her fork.Oliver brightened a little, and began to discourse.It seemed that Birmingham was beginning to fret. They were crying out once more for free tradewith America: European facilities were not enough, and it was Oliver's business to keep them quiet.It was useless, he proposed to tell them, to agitate until the Eastern business was settled: they mustnot bother the Government with such details just now. He was to tell them, too, that theGovernment was wholly on their side; that it was bound to come soon."They are pig-headed," he added fiercely; "pig-headed and selfish; they are like children who cry forfood ten minutes before dinner-time: it is bound to come if they will wait a little