situation so skilfully; and her nose
unconsciously gave a slight Junker lift.

"Haven't you got any parents?" asked the old lady.

"We used to have," said Anna-Felicitas flushing, afraid that her darling
mother was going to be asked about.

The old gentleman gave a sudden chuckle. "Why yes," he said, forgetting
his wife's presence for an instant, "I guess you had them once, or I
don't see how--"

"Albert," said his wife.

"We are the sole surviving examples of the direct line of Twinklers,"
said Anna-Rose, now quite herself and ready to give Columbus a hand.
"There's just us. And we--" she paused a moment, and then plunged--"we
come from England."

"Do you?" said the old lady. "Now I shouldn't have said that. I can't
say just why, but I shouldn't. Should you, Miss Heap?"

"I shouldn't say a good many things, Mrs. Ridding," said Miss Heap
enigmatically, her needles flying.

"It's because we've been abroad a great deal with our parents, I
expect," said Anna-Rose rather quickly. "I daresay it has left its mark
on us."

"Everything leaves its mark on one," observed Anna-Felicitas pleasantly.

"Ah," said the old lady. "I know what it is now. It's the foreign r.
You've picked it up. Haven't they, Miss Heap."

"I shouldn't like to say what they haven't picked up, Mrs. Ridding,"
said Miss Heap, again enigmatically.

"I'm afraid we have," said Anna-Rose, turning red. "We've been told that
before. It seems to stick, once one has picked it up."

And the old gentleman muttered that everything stuck once one had picked
it up, and looked resentfully at his wife.

She moved her slow eyes round, and let them rest on him a moment.

"Albert, if you talk so much you won't be able to sleep to-night," she
said. "I can't get Mr. Ridding to remember we've got to be careful at
our age," she added to the knitting lady.

"You seem to be bothered by your memory," said Anna-Rose politely,
addressing the old gentleman "Have you ever tried making notes on little
bits of paper of the things you have to remember? I think you would
probably be all right then. Uncle Arthur used to do that. Or rather he
made Aunt Alice do it for him, and put them where he would see them."

"Uncle Arthur," explained Anna-Felicitas to the old lady, "is an uncle
of ours. The one," she said turning to the old gentleman, "we were just
telling you about, who so unfortunately insisted on marrying our aunt.
Uncle, that is, by courtesy," she added, turning to