glasses rang again:

"And now you keep quiet about Papa!"

He looked at her severely, with his blue eyes suddenly grown hard and a
frown on his forehead.

She started and upset her glass. Then she began to weep, softly.

He let her be, for a few minutes. She cried, sobbed, bit her
handkerchief. Then he rose, walked round the table, kissed her very
gently.

"You have ... a nice way ... of talking ... to your mother!" she said,
between her sobs.

He made no reply.

"A pretty tone to use to your mother!" she went on.

He took her by the chin and lifted up her face:

"For shame! To lose your temper like that!" he scolded. "And to grumble!
And mope! And squabble! And upset yourself! And kick up a hullabaloo! Do
you call that a pleasant way of dining?"

She buried her face on his breast, in his arms. He stroked her hair:

"Come, Mummy, be sensible, now. It's nothing."

"Yes, but Papa mustn't crab Aunt Adolphine."

"And you mustn't crab Papa. What did Papa say, after all?"

"That Aunt Adolphine's boys...."

"Were rough. Do you think they're girls, then?"

"No."

"Well, then ... What else?"

"I don't approve of your going out with boys so much older than
yourself."

"Then you can tell me so, quietly; but it's no reason to go quarrelling
like that. I can't eat any more now."

"Oh, Addie, just when I've ordered...."

"What?"

"Apple-pudding and wine-sauce."

"Well, it'll keep till to-morrow."

"Do have a little. You know you like it."

"Yes, but I can't eat when I see you so cross. It chokes me, here."

And he pointed to his throat.

"Have just a little bit," she said, coaxingly.

"If you're very good."

"Give me a kiss."

"But mind you're very good."

They laughed together; he gently wiped away her tears:

"You ought to see yourself in the glass," he added, "with those red eyes
of yours!"

He sat down. She rang the bell. The servant brought in the pudding,
displayed no particular surprise at finding that meneer had gone.

"Is there any cheese, for Papa?" he asked.

The servant brought the cheese; Addie cut a piece of gruyere, put it on
a plate with some butter and biscuits, poured out a glass of wine.

"Addie...."

"Wait a minute," he said.

And he went upstairs with the cheese and the wine. Van der Welcke was
sitting glowering in the smoking-room.

"Here's your cheese and biscuits, Father. You don't like apple-pudding,
do you?"

"Oh, I don't want anything!"

"Now, don't