_Barbara._ Yes, I fink he does. _Julia._ Listen to her, Suzie. I expect really he only dreams he's working. Don't you, Babs? At this point I thought it advisable, for the sake of preserving the remnants of my parental authority, to come in to tea. Julia was handing Barbara a packet of chocolate, and greeted me with an arch inquiry as to whether I had been busy writing. I replied with a hearty affirmative. "You ought to hear what your daughter has been saying about you," said Julia. "Oh, and what does Barbara say?" I asked. "She says that when Father sits in that stuffy little room of his he usually writes in his sleep. She really does take the most amazing notice of things, and the way she expresses herself is quite weird." "So Barbara says I write in my sleep?" "Yes, you heard her, didn't you, Suzie? Oh, and did I tell you that the other day, during that heavy thunderstorm, she said that the angels and the devils must be having a big battle and that she supposed the angels would soon be going over the top?" "Come here, Barbara," I said. Barbara, who at her too fond aunt's request had been granted the privilege of taking tea in the drawing-room, stuffed the better half of a jam sandwich into her mouth and came. "Do you see those rich-looking pink cakes?" I asked her. "You shall have one as soon as we've had a little talk." "The biggest and pinkiest one?" demanded Barbara. "Yes. Now tell me--don't you think that people ought always to speak the truth, and to be especially careful not to distort the remarks of others?" "Yes. Can I have the one with the greeny thing on it?" "Certainly, in a minute. And don't you think that women are much more careless of the truth than men?" "Yes. Can I----" "Do you love your Aunt Julia?" "Yes." "Why?" "Cos she always has got choc'lates in her bag." "But don't you think it's much more important to have the truth in your heart than chocolates in your bag?" "Yes. Now can I have my pink cake?" I released and rewarded her, and Julia prepared to speak her mind. Fortunately, however, just at that moment my brother Tom, who is Barbara's godfather, came in. "Why, what a big girl we're getting!" he observed to Barbara in his best godfatherly manner. "I suppose we shall soon be going to school?" "Oh, no, not yet awhile," I interposed. "The fact is she's already far too forward, and we think it a good thing to keep her back a bit. You'd never believe the amazing remarks she makes. Just now, for instance, we happened to be discussing the comparative love of truth inherent in men and women, and Barbara chipped in and told me she thought women were far more careless of the truth than men." "Good heavens!" said Tom, who is a bachelor by conviction. "She certainly hit the nail on the head there." "Yes, and she added that she herself prized truth above chocolates." "It sounds almost incredible," gasped Tom.