“They must be poor, timid, little ideas, aunt, to be so easily frightened away,” said Jane. “Jane, there has been a flippant tone about you for the last day or two that I don’t at all approve of. Flippancy in young people is easily acquired, but difficult to get rid of. The sooner you get rid of yours the better I shall be pleased.” Jane rose from her chair and swept Mrs. McDermott a stately curtsey. “Is it not almost time, aunt,” she said quietly, “that you gave up treating me, and talking to me, as if I were a child?” “If you are no longer a child in years, you are still very childish in many of your ways.” “You are quite epigrammatic this morning, aunt.” “Don’t be impertinent, young lady.” “I have no intention of being impertinent. But I have come to see you about the order for dinner which you gave the cook half an hour ago.” “What about that?” asked Mrs. McDermott snappishly. “In what way does it concern you?” “It concerns me very materially indeed,” answered Jane. “You have ordered several things for dinner that papa does not care about; some, in fact, that he never eats. Fried soles, for instance, and veal cutlets—articles he never touches. So I have told the cook to supplement your order with some turbot and a boiled fowl à la marquise. I have also told her that for the future she will receive from me every evening the menu for next day. Should my list contain nothing that you care about, the cook has orders to obtain specially for you any articles that you may wish to have.” “Upon my word! what next?” was all that Mrs. McDermott could gasp out at the moment, so overcome was she with rage and surprise. “This next,” said Jane. “From to-day the dinner hour will be altered back to six o’clock. Half-past seven suits neither papa nor me. Should the latter hour be a necessity with you, you can always have your dinner served at that time in your own room. But papa and I will dine at six.” “I shall talk to your papa about this, and ascertain from his own lips whether I am to be dictated to and insulted by a chit like you.” “That is just what I must forbid you to do,” said Jane. “Papa’s health has not been what it ought to be for a long time past. “Only a few weeks ago he had a slight stroke. Happily he soon recovered from it, but Dr. Davidson says that all exciting topics must be kept carefully from him. You know how little things will often excite him; and if you begin to worry him about any petty differences that may arise between you and me, you will do so at your peril, and must be satisfied to take whatever consequences may arise from your so doing.” Mrs. McDermott stared at her niece in open-mouthed wonder. “Perhaps you have something more to say to me,” she gasped out. “Yes, several things. Before ordering the brougham to be at your beck and call every day at three o’clock, it might, perhaps, be just as well to make sure that your brother is not likely to want it. He has taken to using it rather frequently of late.”