The Duke's meals were generally not feasts for a Lucullus. No man
living, perhaps, cared less what he ate, or knew less what he
drank. In such matters he took what was provided for him, making
his dinner off the first bit of meat that was brought, and simply
ignoring anything offered to him afterwards. And he would drink
what wine the servant gave him, mixing it, whatever it might be,
with seltzer water. He had never been given much the pleasures of
the table; but this habit of simplicity had grown on him of late,
till the Duchess used to tell him that his wants were so few that
it was a pity he was not a hermit, vowed to poverty.
Very shortly a message was brought to Lady Mary, saying that her
father wished to see her. She went at once, and found him seated
on a sofa, which stood close along the bookshelves on one side of
the room. The table had already been cleared, and he was alone. He
not only was alone, but had not even a pamphlet or newspaper in
his hand.
Then she knew that Tregear must have told the story. As this
occurred to her, her legs almost gave way under her.
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