sh rolls,
and a loose sleeve displayed a round and dimpled forearm--a fitting
continuance of the taper fingers grasping the chief dish of the
wholesome and liberal menu she had prepared.

Old Uncle Jake took the carver's place, but Grandma Clay sat at his
left elbow and instructed him what to do. He handed the helpings to
her, and she supplemented each with some of all the vegetables,
irrespective of the wishes of the consumers, to whom they were handed
in a business-like method. The puddings were distributed on the same
principle, grandma even putting milk and sugar on the plates as for
children; and further, she talked in a choleric way, as though the
children were in bad grace owing to some misdemeanour, but that was
merely one of her mannerisms, as that of others is to smile and be
sweet while they inwardly fume.

Excepting this, the unimpressive old smudges hung above the mantel,
and probably standing for some family progenitors, gazed out of their
caricatured eyes on an uneventful meal. Conversation was choppy and of
the personal order, not interesting to a stranger to those mentioned.
I made a few duty remarks to Uncle Jake, which he received with
suspicion, so I left him in peace to suck his teeth and look like a
sleepy lizard, while I counted the queer and inartistic old vases
crowded in plumb and corresponding pairs on the shelf over the
fireplace.

Miss Flipp, the other boarder, was in every respect a contrast to me,
being small, young, and dressed with elaboration in a flimsy style
which, off the stage, I have always scorned. Her wrists were laden
with bangles, her fingers with rings, and her golden hair piled high
in the most exaggerated of the exaggerated pompadour styles in vogue.
Her appetite was indifferent; the expression of her eyes bespoke
either ill-health or dissipation, and she was very abstracted, or as
Mrs Clay put it--

"She acts like she had somethink on her mind. Maybe she's love-sick
for some one she can't ketch, and she's been sent up here to forget."

This was after Miss Flipp had retreated to her room, and Carry
continued the subject as she cleared the table.

"She _says_ she's an orphan reared by a rich uncle; she's always
blowing about him and how fond he is of her. She's just recovered from
an operation and has come up here to get strong. That's why she does
nothing, so she _says_, only poke about and read novels and make
herself new hats and blouses; but _I_ think she'd be laz