“Why--nothing. That is, I’ve been thinking that you haven’t looked very well of late. And you weren’t downstairs so I came up to see if anything was the matter.” “Oh, thank you, John! I thought you----” Lucy could say no more. The tears began to roll down her cheeks. “Thought what? You little goose!” His voice shook slightly but it had something of its old time tone of affectionate banter. “You’re all frazzled out nervously. That’s what’s the matter with you. I’ve been noticing for some time that you didn’t look well. Come on down to dinner and quit thinking about imaginary troubles.” Lucy’s eyes were grateful. Her lips quivered a little. “All right,” she answered, smiling with tears still on her lashes. “Come on, Son,” invited John, lifting Dimmie to his shoulder. And the three descended the stairs. Mrs. Merwent was sitting in the shadowy dining room without a light. John opened the electric switch. “Kin I put de dinnah on?” asked Katy, emerging from the kitchen. “Yes, Katy. I think everybody is ready at last,” responded Nannie, rising from her chair with reproachful dignity. “Gee, but I’m hungry!” exclaimed John. “Me, too!” chimed in Dimmie. “How about you, Lucy?” laughed John. “I think I am, too.” Lucy smiled rather wanly. “Well, let’s eat.” John picked up his napkin. “The soup smells good.” “It’s crawfish bisque,” Nannie put in quickly. “I had it made especially for you.” “Can’t the rest of us have any?” asked Lucy with a slight attempt at pleasantry. “I didn’t mean that,” observed Nannie acidly. “I only meant that I thought of John. He said the other day that he had never eaten any. But of course I might have expected that you would misunderstand me.” “Now, Nannie,” expostulated John, “that was only an innocent joke. For heaven’s sake let’s not have another quarrel! I’d like a little peace.” Mrs. Merwent’s eyes filled with tears. “Well, I’ll go and--leave you in peace,” she sniffed, laying down her napkin and rising from the table. “Well, what do you know about that!” ejaculated John after Nannie had left the room. “You two women will run me crazy. If it’s not one it’s the other.” “John, I’m not to blame!” Lucy uttered this in the form of a statement but her tone was tremulously beseeching. “I’m hanged if _I_ know who’s to blame!” declared John petulantly. “All I’m certain of is that I’ve got about all I can stand of it.” Katy rushed breathlessly into the room. “Miss Lucy,” she wheezed, “I ’spec’s Miss Nannie am dretful sick. She am groanin’ an’ cryin’ pow’ful bad.” John sprang to his feet. “I wonder what’s the matter?” he exclaimed questioningly. “Why don’t you go and see, Lucy?” he added accusingly. “She’s only angry, John,” answered Lucy, watching his face with anxiety. Nannie’s moans could be heard. “People don’t make sounds like that because they are angry,” retorted John. “If you’re not going upstairs, I am!” Lucy rose.