; but she bit her lips and
completed her sentence in another way in each case, and if Mrs. Howland
noticed, she made no sign.

It rained the next morning. Kate came into the dining-room with a
frown.

"I'm so sorry, auntie," she sighed. "I'd planned a drive this morning.
It always rains when I want to do something, but when I don't, it just
shines and shines, week in and week out."

"Won't the rain wash the--plates?" asked Mrs. Howland in a low voice,
as she passed her niece's chair.

"Wha-at?" demanded Mrs. Blake; then she flushed scarlet. "Weather
doesn't count," she finished flippantly.

"No? Oh!" smiled Mrs. Howland.

"Fine muffins, these!" spoke up Mr. Blake, a little later. "New
cook--eh?"

"Yes," replied his wife. "But they're graham. I 'd much rather have
had corn-cake."

"There are not so many--crumbs to graham," observed Mrs. Howland
musingly.

There was no reply. The man of the house looked slightly dazed. His
wife bit her lip, and choked a little over her coffee. Through the
rest of the meal Mrs. Blake confined herself almost exclusively to
monosyllables, leaving the conversation to her husband and guest.

At ten the sky cleared, and Mrs. Blake ordered the horses.

"We can't drive far," she began discontentedly, "for I ordered an early
luncheon as we have tickets for a concert this afternoon. I wanted to
go away out beyond the Newtons, but now we'll have to take a little
snippy one."

"Oh, I don't mind," rejoined her guest pleasantly. "Where one can't
have the whole cake one must be satisfied with--crumbs."

"Why, I don't see"--began Kate aggressively; then she stopped, and
nervously tapped her foot.

"Oh, how pretty that vine is!" cried Mrs. Howland suddenly. The
silence was growing oppressive.

"It looks very well now, but you should see it in winter," retorted
Kate. "Great, bare, snake-like things all over the--now, don't cudgel
your brains to bring 'plates' or 'crumbs' into that!" she broke off
with sudden sharpness.

"No, ma'am," answered Mrs. Howland demurely.

By night the guest, if not the hostess, was in a state of nervous
tension that boded ill for sleep. The day had been one long succession
of "crumbs" and "china plates"--conversationally. According to Kate,
the roads had been muddy; the sun had been too bright; there had been
chops when there should have been croquettes for luncheon; the concert
seats were too far forward; the soprano had a thin voice, and