at
this is--this is Suzanne Dale--what?"

"Yes, this is," she replied laughingly. "Can I give you a cup of tea,
Mr. Witla? I know you are Mr. Witla from ma-ma''s description and the
way in which you talk to everybody."

"And how do I talk to everybody, may I ask, pleasum?"

"Oh, I can't tell you so easily. I mean, I can't find the words, you
know. I know how it is, though. Familiarly, I suppose I mean. Will you
have one lump or two?"

"Three an thou pleasest. Didn't your mother tell me you sang or played?"

"Oh, you mustn't believe anything ma-ma' says about me! She's apt to say
anything. Tee! Hee! It makes me laugh"--she pronounced it laaf--"to
think of my playing. My teacher says he would like to strike my
knuckles. Oh, dear!" (She went into a gale of giggles.) "And sing! Oh,
dear, dear! That is too good!"

Eugene watched her pretty face intently. Her mouth and nose and eyes
fascinated him. She was so sweet! He noted the configuration of her lips
and cheeks and chin. The nose was delicate, beautifully formed, fat, not
sensitive. The ears were small, the eyes large and wide set, the
forehead naturally high, but so concealed by curls that it seemed low.
She had a few freckles and a very small dimple in her chin.

"Now you mustn't laugh like that," he said mock solemnly. "It's very
serious business, this laughing. In the first place, it's against the
rules of this apartment. No one is ever, ever, ever supposed to laugh
here, particularly young ladies who pour tea. Tea, Epictetus well says,
involves the most serious conceptions of one's privileges and duties. It
is the high-born prerogative of tea servers to grin occasionally, but
never, never, never under any circumstances whatsoever----" Suzanne's
lips were beginning to part ravishingly in anticipation of a burst of
laughter.

"What's all the excitement about, Witla?" asked Skalger, who had drifted
to his side. "Why this sudden cessation of progress?"

"Tea, my son, tea!" said Eugene. "Have a cup with me?"

"I will."

"He's trying to tell me, Mr. Skalger, that I should never laaf. I must
only grin." Her lips parted and she laughed joyously. Eugene laughed
with her. He could not help it. "Ma-ma' says I giggle all the time. I
wouldn't do very well here, would I?"

She always pronounced it "ma-ma'."

She turned to Eugene again with big smiling eyes.

"Exceptions, exceptions. I might make exceptions--one exception--but not
more."

"Why one?" she asked ar