An hour later she heard John and her mother tip-toeing up the stairs, trying to avoid disturbing her. * * * * * John had breakfast early the succeeding morning as he wished to reach the office simultaneously with Jim. When Mrs. Merwent came downstairs it was already close to the lunch hour and she asked to have her breakfast in the kitchen so that she might talk to Lucy who was at work there. “Your friend, Mr. Sprague, doesn’t like me,” Mrs. Merwent began as she buttered her toast contemplatively. “Why, Mamma, I don’t see what makes you say that.” Lucy measured some flour. “Do you mean you didn’t notice what he said after dinner about parents being in secret competition with their children?” “Yes, I heard that, but he was speaking generally. He was probably not thinking about you at all.” “No, he doesn’t consider me intellectual enough to be worth thinking about. Professor Walsh is a great deal better educated than Mr. Sprague, so I guess I can console myself with the fact that he _does_ find me worth talking to.” Lucy referred again to her recipe book. “Really, Mamma, you have no reason to feel this way. I’m sure Jim was as attentive to you as you let him be.” “Well, it was mere politeness. He wasn’t at all interested in anything I said.” “I’m sure I don’t know how you know. He listened to everything you said to him. Of course he doesn’t know any of the people you talked about, and he isn’t good at small talk, and besides you talked almost entirely to John, but I thought he was very nice.” “Very patronizing, you mean, Lucy. I can see very plainly that he has a low opinion of women--except you, of course. He seemed anxious enough to talk to you.” “Mamma, I wish you wouldn’t speak that way.” “Speak what way?” Lucy paused in her task and gazed steadily at her mother. “You know perfectly well, Mamma. The reason he talked to me was that you wished it, and besides I ask you not to talk about Jim in that tone.” “Well, anyone could see that he was crazy to be with you,” Nannie began angrily. “Mamma!” Lucy was indignant. Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “Why, Lucy, I don’t see how you can twist my words so. I didn’t mean there was anything between you.” Lucy gasped. “Who said you did?” she ejaculated, articulating with difficulty. “I only meant that you were unjust to Jim.” Mrs. Merwent continued to regard her daughter reproachfully. “You don’t know him, Mamma. He’s the very best kind of a man,” Lucy went on more gently. “Yes! I suppose I am incapable of appreciating him. Well, _you_ seem to at any rate,” Nannie taunted. Lucy paused ominously. “Well, Mamma, if you don’t like him, I can’t help it,” she resumed at last in an odd strained voice. “He’s our friend, but I’m not responsible for him or his opinions. You’ll just have to like him or dislike him for yourself.” “I never said I disliked him,” retorted Nannie. “I said he disliked me. Any one would think to hear you talk that he was----”