From My Cousin Rachel by Daphne du Maurier, 1951:
We did not always sit below in the library. Sometimes she would ask me to go with her upstairs, to aunt Phoebe's boudoir, and we would spread out the books and plans of gardens upon the floor. I was host in the library down below, but here in her boudoir she was hostess. I am not sure I did not like it better. We lost formality. Seacombe did not bother us — by some measure of tact she had got him to dispense with the solemnity of the silver tea tray — and she would brew tisana for us both instead, which she said was a continental custom and much better for the eyes and skin.
A little snippet of tea in literature. Ah, what refuge it would be if I could devote myself to doing nothing but reading fiction all day every day. But I'm a non-fiction man as an author myself... --Spirituality of Tea
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