s; Caneton de Luxembourg; Soles aux fines
herbes; Pommes Natures; Fricandeau de Veau; Haricots Princesse; Poulet
roti; Compote; Homard frais; Sauce Ravigottes; Salad mele; Creme au
chocolat; Fromage; Fruit. Humph, funnily arranged, isn't it? But Tibe
and I have been living in furnished lodgings, and we--er--have eaten
rather irregularly. I dare say between us we might manage the lunch as
it is."

Nephew Ronald ordered it, and another silence fell. I think that he
drummed on the table.

"We might as well get to business," suggested the lady. "Does the aunt
engagement begin immediately?"

"I--er--there's one difficulty," faltered the young man. "Unfortunately
I injudiciously let drop that my aunt was a _fine_ woman."

"Really! You might better have waited till you made her acquaintance.
You can't pick and choose in a hurry, when you must have a ready-made
aunt, my dear sir. Myself, I _prefer_ small women. They are more
feminine."

"Please don't be angry. You see, it was like this. I said that, when I
still hoped to have a real aunt on hand for my purpose. That was the way
the scrape began. I inadvertently let out her name and a lot of
things----"

"To the young ladies I'm to chaperon?"

"Yes, to the young ladies. If they remember the description----"

"You can say you referred to your aunt's character when you remarked
that she was a fine woman."

"I suppose so" (still doubtfully). "But then there's another trouble,
you know. I advertised in _Het Nieus van den Dag_
for a _Scotch_ aunt."

I moved suddenly, for a queer thought jumped into my head. The blue
spectacles were focused on me, and there was a low murmur, to which the
man responded in his usual tone. "No danger. _Dutch._ I heard him
talking to the waiter."

Now, perhaps I should have called through the lattice and the leaves:
"Combination of Dutch and English. Half and half. As much at home in one
language as the other." But for several reasons I was silent. One was,
that it was easier to be silent than to make a fuss. Another was that,
if the suspicion which had just sprung into my head had any foundation,
it was mine or any man's duty to know the truth and act upon it. So I
sat still, and went on with my luncheon as my next door neighbors went
on with theirs; and no one remembered my existence except Tibe.

"I've no moral objection to being a Scotch aunt," said the obliging
lady.

"It's your accent, not your morals, that sticks in my throat."