"To think of reasonable and reasoning creatures lowering themselves to an equality with the beasts of the field, by indulging in what is falsely called the pleasures of the table—to think of their voluntarily assembling only to eat; degrading their intellects by sitting down to spend two hours over roast mutton or apple pie—really it is inconceivable—allow me to conduct you, and your fair sister Margaret to the dinner-table. Sweetest Miss Margaret," presenting her his hand as he spoke, "my felicity is beyond expression—I can only equal my situation between you two, to love amongst the roses."
At the dinner-table Mrs. Watson appeared in all her glory. The dinner was really good, and as the favoured guest inhaled the odour of the soup, it was evident from the complacent expression which stole over his features, that he was well satisfied with the prospect now before him. Mrs. Watson's tactics were suited to the occasion; she devoted her attention to helping him to the best things on the table—the most dainty morsel, the epicure's piece, was in every case heaped on his plate. It would have been amusing to an observer to watch the struggle which in some cases occurred between Robert's self-interest and self-love. His appetite was at variance with his policy; it was difficult for him to yield the precedence at his own table to the love of good eating exhibited by another. To see his wife thus liberally disposed to another man was a severe blow, and whilst he acknowledged the justice, prudence and propriety of thus acting, it went to his heart to behold it. Her attentions, her flattery, her winning smiles she was welcome to indulge him with, but the dainty morsel from the cod's head—the largest share from the sweet-bread fricassee, the liver-wing of the spring chicken, these he could not resign without a sigh.
Mr. Alfred Freemantle, however, did not leave Emma much leisure to make remarks; he had seated himself by her side at table, and was paying her an infinite number of what he considered delicate attentions; calling incessantly to the footman to bring her vegetables—urging her to try every dish on the table, helping her to salt, and filling her glass with wine to the very brim, as he asserted all ladies liked bumpers; at the same time pouring into her ears the most common-place nonsense about his devotion to the fair sex, his zeal in performing his _devoirs_, and sundry other observations of the sort.