“Why, Lucy must have forgotten to order it,” she observed, as if to herself. Then she turned to her son-in-law, placing her hand on his arm. “John,” she asked, smiling, “would you do Nannie a favor?” “Sure,” he consented. “What is it?” “I wish you would get me a little fruit to keep in my room. I like to eat a little before going to bed.” “Of course. I’ll have some sent around in the morning.” “I meant tonight--if you didn’t mind.” “All right. Jim and I’ll go and get it after dinner.” “You cruel boy! You want to advertise my weakness to the world. I didn’t want anybody to know.” “Good. I’ll just pop out and get it right away. How’s that?” “You’re a dear boy. I’m afraid Lucy wouldn’t approve of spoiling me this way.” Mrs. Merwent walked into the hall where John followed her. “Well, we won’t tell anybody,” declared John. He took his hat from the rack and went out the front door, closing it gently after him. Jim and Dimmie came back from the kitten inspecting expedition and, entering the living room, found Mrs. Merwent alone. “Mother was asking for you a minute ago, Jimmie,” she told the little boy. Dimmie ran to the kitchen. Jim sat down by the fire place. “Everybody has left me to amuse myself, Mr. Sprague.” Nannie looked up at him challengingly from the depths of the Morris chair in which she was reclining. “Why where’s John?” he asked. “He’s gone out some place for a few minutes. I don’t know where,” she said. “Wouldn’t you like to smoke?” She rose. “I’ll get some of John’s cigarettes.” “No, thank you. I don’t smoke cigarettes. I’ll fill my pipe if you don’t mind.” “I smoke cigarettes sometimes, when I’m quite alone,” she confided, laughing slightly. “Yes?” “I suppose you don’t approve of ladies smoking, do you?” she insisted. “If they want to.” “Does Lucy smoke?” “No.” Mrs. Merwent laughed again. “I didn’t know,” she declared. Jim gazed at her steadily. The front door clicked and she started. “Was that John?” she asked. Jim rose and glanced through the window. “No,” he responded. “It was Dimmie. He threw his ball into the street. Did you want anything, Mrs. Merwent?” “Oh, no,” she assured him. “I just wondered. He said he was coming right back. Well, we don’t need a chaperone, do we?” “Hardly,” replied Jim. Mrs. Merwent dropped a marquise ring she had been pulling on and off her finger. Jim picked it up and handed it to her. “Thank you. I shouldn’t be wearing rings with this old gown. I just put it on from force of habit.” “Which?” asked Jim, smiling. “The ring, of course, you sarcastic thing,” she retorted, striking his knee with the lace handkerchief in her hand. “The dress is charming, Mrs. Merwent.” “Oh, thank you. You’re going to be nice after all. Well, I was quite prepared to find you so. Lucy and John can’t say enough good things about you.” “I’m much obliged to them,” he remarked, smiling again. “I can say the same of them.”