"Aunt Negus," he rattled on, "don't water that teapot before you pour my cup. I take it stronger than the children." She paused with the cover of the teapot in her hand, and, after filling his cup, went on with the watering process. "Auntie's tea-tray looks like the square when a parade is going on," said the more waggish of the twins. "See how the cups are drawn up in battle array. Those that don't take sugar, bayonets at the side,--that is, spoons in saucers. Those that do, present arms,--spoons upright in cups. Then quick, march,--here they come," as she started on their way the rows of cups she had filled with precision as to the exact quantity of milk and sugar desired by each person. Derrice and Captain White talked to the children. Chelda took what little she ate in silence, and Miss Gastonguay addressed her conversation to Mrs. Negus, who gave her various items of information with regard to a busy life of sewing, darning, baking, shopping, and caring for the children cast off by relatives, but now happy objects of her affection. After supper, Captain White fled to the attic, pursued by the children and Derrice, who half-shamefacedly said that she would go to keep them quiet. "She likes a romp," said Mrs. Negus. "She was pretty young to be married." Then following the law of association she turned to Chelda. "My dear girl, I am thinking of that poor boy shut up in his study. He must have one of his gloomy fits on him. Would you think it a liberty if I asked you to take up a supper-tray? He would not be vexed with you, for he likes you." "I should not mind it at all," said Chelda, graciously, and she followed her to the kitchen. A minute later, Mrs. Negus, after giving some directions, hurried back to Miss Gastonguay, and Chelda stood gazing at the black woman who was phlegmatically disposing of the remnants of the beef and potatoes. "Mrs. Mercer comes here pretty often, I suppose," said the young lady. "Oh, law, yes, miss,--every day an' mos' evenin's, an' I'm always ponderin' an' ponderin' about her." "What are you pondering?" "'Cause she's the moral image of a lady I onct knowed." "Where?" "In Boston city. Yo know, miss, I was onct a housemaid thar in a boarding-house on Beacon Hill. Law me, them houses roun' about was a sight to see at meal-times. People comin' out of 'em like rats out of holes. Every room plum full." "Who was the lady?" "German born, American married. Her husband warn't no good,--he favoured Cap'en White somewhat." Chelda's face did not alter, but her questions did. They had been prompted by a subtle wish to acquaint herself with every detail of life in the house of the man she loved. Now she was reminded of the conversation between her aunt and Derrice that she had overheard a few hours before, and she at once became keenly interested, and asked, sharply, "What do you mean by no good?" "I dunno, miss. I jus' heard his wife goin' for him one day." "Didn't she say what he had done?"