Silence. A sniff from Mrs. Payson. "That girl's making coffee again for herself. If she's had one cup to-day she's had ten. I get a pound of coffee every three days, on my word." "They all do that, mother--all the Swedish girls." Silence. "The lamb's delicious, isn't it, Aunt Charlotte?" Mrs. Payson disagreed before Aunt Charlotte could agree. "It's tough. I'm going to have a talk with that Gus to-morrow." Silence. The swinging door squeaking at the entrance of Hulda with a dish. "No; not for me." Aunt Charlotte refusing another helping. Silence again except for the sound of food being masticated. Great-aunt Charlotte had an amazingly hearty appetite. Its revival had dated from the acquisition of the new teeth. Now, when Aunt Charlotte smiled, her withered lips drew away to disclose two flawless rows of blue-white teeth. They flashed, incongruously perfect, in contrast with the sere and wrinkled fabric of her face. There had been talk of drawing Mrs. Payson's teeth as a possible cure for her rheumatic condition, but she had fought the idea stubbornly. "They make me tired. When they don't know what else to do they pull your teeth. They pull your teeth for everything from backache to diabetes. And when it doesn't help they say, 'Pardon me. My mistake,' and there you are without your teeth and with your aches. Fads!" She had aired these views most freely during the distressing two weeks following Aunt Charlotte's dental operation, when soft, slippery shivery concoctions had had to be specially prepared for her in the Payson kitchen. Lottie would scurry about in her mind for possible table-talk. Anything--anything but this sodden silence. "How would you two girls like to see a picture this evening, h'm? If we go early and get seats well toward the front, so that Aunt Charlotte can see, I'll drive you over to Forty-third. I wonder what's at the Vista. I'll look in the paper. I hope Hulda saved the morning paper. Perhaps Belle will drive over and meet us for the first show--no, she can't either, I remember; she and Henry are having dinner north to-night. Most of Belle's friends are moving north. Do you know, I think--" "The South Side's always been good enough for me and always will be. I don't see any sense in this fad for swarming over to the north shore. If they'd improve the acres and acres out Bryn Mawr way----" Mrs. Payson was conversationally launched on South Side real estate. Lottie relaxed with relief. Sometimes she fancied that she caught Great-aunt Charlotte's misleadingly bright old eyes upon her with a look that was at once knowing and sympathetic. On one occasion that surprising septuagenarian had startled and mystified Mrs. Payson and Lottie by the sudden and explosive utterance of the word, "Game-fish!" It was at dinner.