Unconscious of her guest's alarm, Lady Margaret continued: "His name is Marcus Aurelius; I call him that after the great Roman emperor, because he is so sweet-tempered and intelligent. See what a humorous expression he has!" (And, in fact, the snake's tiny eyes and wide mouth had something the look of an ironical grin about them.) "Look! See him follow me about the table. He knows his friend--don't you, my pet? Now, Marcus, I'll put up my arm for a pole; make a monkey of yourself. Climb down, again. Now," tapping the table, "be a dead snake. Very good. Now, show them what you think of strangers." She motioned to Oscar; but he edged back behind Nora, muttering, "No, they are nasty!" Then Nora stepped forward. Instantly the snake coiled itself up, hissing. "Now, you," said Lady Margaret to Edmund. "He won't be afraid of me," laughed Edmund, stretching forth his hand; "come, pet!" And to Lady Margaret's surprise the snake came, twining about the boy's wrist as it was used to twine about hers. "Ah, you have my gift, my dear!" she cried, delighted. She put the snake back in the box and excused herself for a moment. The page brought in the tea-tray. In a moment Lady Margaret returned and made the tea, Mrs. Morris who had been looking on all this while in a kind of trance of horror, recovered enough, at these refreshing signs, to sink into a chair by a low table. She clutched her sister's arm--Nora sat next to her--and murmured, "Was there ever such an awful menagerie of a house?" "Be quiet," whispered Nora. "I can't be quiet! Those dreadful little monkey things are under the table, nibbling at my ankles, I shall _have_ to scream!" "You can't scream. Don't disgrace your country. Lady Margaret will hear us, I much fear!" "She's making tea at the other table. Besides, Mrs. Darrel and Eddy are talking to her, Nora. Are you sure that big dog is safe? Did you hear him growl? It was an awfully fierce-sounding growl! And, Nora, I _think_ one of the snakes is loose. There were six in the box and I can count only five--yes, Lady Margaret, the tea is quite right. It is delicious." But though, in truth it was delicious, and though equally to be praised were the thin bread and butter, the Scotch shortbread from Edinburgh, and the English plum cake, Mrs. Morris never enjoyed a repast less. She spent her time making little sorties with her feet at the marmosets, which took it for play and returned to the attack with new zest; and she whispered to Nora that she was morally sure the sixth snake was crawling up her chair. Nora, herself, was not at ease; nevertheless, her patriotic politeness conquered; she ate everything, looked at everything, praised everything. Lady Margaret found her "most agreeable."