“Oh, that’s nothing.” Lucy put cup, saucer, spoon, and plate on the kitchen table. “Now you must let me wait on myself,” Mrs. Merwent objected as Lucy placed the sugar bowl and cream pitcher before her. “It’s all ready, Mamma.” “I had no idea you’d do all this,” Nannie remarked as she resigned herself to the consumption of coffee, cookies, and some muffins left from breakfast. “We’ll be all alone for luncheon. John never comes home at midday,” Lucy informed her mother. An inviting odor rose from the range as she raised the lid of a pot. “Let’s have strawberries and ice cream,” suggested Nannie. “I just love strawberries. It makes me fairly tremble with delight when they go down my throat.” “I don’t know whether they’re in yet,” said Lucy. “Oh, yes, they are. I saw some in a big fruit store in the city, and John got me some for breakfast.” “I doubt whether we can get any out here, but I’ll send Dimmie to the store around the corner with a note to see.” “Now don’t let me interfere with your arrangements. It doesn’t make any difference what I eat. I don’t want to make any bother while I’m here.” “It’s no bother,” disclaimed Lucy. She had already planned the dessert but did not know what else to say. When Dimmie returned from the fruiterer’s he came into the kitchen and, with great pride, delivered the parcel to his mother. “The man only had two boxes,” he announced, “an’ he said the money wasn’t enough for ’em, but it was all right. It’s all wrote in the note.” “Thank you, darling,” said Lucy, kissing him. “You should wipe your feet before you come into the house, Jimmie,” remonstrated his grandmother. “See how you have brought dirt into the kitchen. Little boys should learn to be thoughtful of others and not make work unnecessarily. That’s not helping.” “Oh, it’s not mud. It will sweep out easily,” explained Lucy, smiling at Dimmie whose face had grown troubled. “Well, I’m sure I didn’t mean to interfere, Lucy,” said Nannie. “I was only trying to help. You’re the one who has to clean up after him, not I. You are so different from what you used to be. We never used to have the slightest difference of opinion.” Lucy continued to smile. “I don’t think I am any different,” she replied. “Yes, you are,” insisted her mother. “Getting married has changed you. I must say, though, I was agreeably surprised in your husband. John is really delightful, so kind and considerate. I overlooked everything and we became friends in no time. How much does he make?” Lucy opened her eyes wide. “He and Mr. Sprague are in partnership in business for themselves. Some months they make more than others.” “What a sweet little house you have,” went on Nannie, whose conversation consisted mostly of beginnings. “How I long to have a home again!”