Reginald declared that the tea his mother poured out was far better than any the footman at Garden Vale used to dispense.

Horace tried to make fun of the heterogeneous cups and saucers.

Mrs Cruden tried hard to appear as though she was taking a hearty meal, while she tasted nothing.

But it was a relief when the girl reappeared and cleared the table.
Then they unpacked their few belongings, and tried to enliven their dreary lodgings with a few precious mementoes of happier days.

Finally, worn out in mind and body, they took shelter in bed, and for a blessed season forgot all their misery and forebodings in sleep.
There is no magic equal to that which a night's sleep will sometimes work.