ht heel, they had the proper mirror-like surface.

"Mistuh Val," Lucy's penetrating voice made him start guiltily, "is yo'
or is yo' not comin' to brekfas'?"

"I am," he answered and started downstairs at his swiftest pace.

The new ruler of their household was standing at the foot of the stairs,
her knuckles resting on her broad hips. She eyed the boy sternly. Lucy
eyed one, Val thought, much as a Scotch nurse Ricky and he had once had.
They had never dared question any of Annie's decrees, and one look from
her had been enough to reduce them to instant order. Lucy's eye had the
same power. And now as she herded Val into the dining-room he felt like
a six-year-old with an uneasy conscience.

Rupert and Ricky were already seated and eating. That is, Ricky was
eating, but Rupert was reading his morning mail.

"Yo'all sits down," said Lucy firmly, "an' yo'all eats what's on youah
plate. Yo'all ain' much fattah nor a jay-bird."

"I don't see why she keeps comparing me to a living skeleton all the
time," Val complained as she departed kitchenward.

"She told Letty-Lou yesterday," supplied Ricky through a mouthful of
popover, "that you are 'peaked lookin'."

"Why doesn't she start in on Rupert? He needs another ten pounds or so."
Val reached for the butter. "And he hasn't got a very good color,
either." Val surveyed his brother professionally. "Doesn't get outdoors
enough."

"No," Ricky's voice sounded aggrieved, "he's too busy having secrets--"

"Hmm," Rupert murmured, more interested in his letter than in the
conversation.

"The trouble is that we are not Chinese bandits, Malay pirates, or Arab
freebooters. We don't possess color, life, enough--enough--"

"Sugar," Rupert interrupted Val, pushing his coffee-cup in the general
direction of Ricky without raising his eyes from the page in his hand.
She giggled.

"So that's what we lack. Well, now we know. How much sugar should we
have, Rupert? Rupert--Mr. Rupert Ralestone--Mr. Rupert Ralestone of
Pirate's Haven!" Her voice grew louder and shriller until he did lay
down his reading matter and really looked at them for the first time.

"What do you want?"

"A little attention," answered Ricky sweetly. "We aren't Chinese, Arabs,
or Malays, but we are kind of nice to know, aren't we, Val? If you'd
only come out of your subconscious, or wherever you are most of the
time, you'd find that out without being told."

Rupert laughed and pushed away his letters. "Sorry.