Mr Croft's mind was very busy in endeavoring to think of some casual remark, some observation regarding man, nature, or society, or even an anecdote or historical incident, which, if brought into the conversation, might produce upon the lady's countenance some shade of expression, or some variation in her tone or words which would give him the information he sought for. But what he said was: "Are they really suppers that you have, or are they only teas?" "Now I know," said the lady, "why you have sometimes taken dinner with us, but never supper. You were afraid that it would be a tea." Lawrence Croft was thinking that if this girl believed that he was in love with her, it would make a great deal of difference in his present course of action. If such were the case, he ought not to come here so often, or, in fact, he ought not to come at all, until he had decided for himself what he was going to do. But what could he say that would cause her, for the briefest moment, to unveil her idea of himself. "I never could endure," he said, "those meals which consist of thin shavings of bread with thick plasters of butter, aided and abetted by sweet cakes, preserves, and tea." "You should have reserved those remarks," she said, "until you had found out what sort of evening meal we have." He could certainly say something, he thought. Perhaps it might be some little fanciful story which would call up in her mind, without his appearing to intend it, some thought of his relationship to her as a lover--that is, if she had ever had such a notion. If this could be done, her face would betray the fact. But, not being ready to make such a remark, he said: "I beg your pardon, but do you really have suppers in the English fashion?" "Oh, no," answered Miss Roberta, "we don't have a great cold joint, with old cheese, and pitchers of brown stout and ale, but neither do we content ourselves with thin bread and butter, and preserves. We have coffee as well as tea, hot rolls, fleecy and light, hot batter bread made of our finest corn meal, hot biscuits and stewed fruit, with plenty of sweet milk and buttermilk; and, if anybody wants it, he can always have a slice of cold ham." "If I could only feel sure," thought Mr Croft, "that she looked upon me merely as an acquaintance, I would cease to trouble my mind on this subject, and let everything go on as before. But I am not sure, and I would rather not come here again until I am." "And at what hour," he asked, "do you partake of a meal like that?" "In summer time," said Miss Roberta, "we have supper when it is dark enough to light the lamps. My uncle dislikes very much to be deprived, by the advent of a meal, of the out-door enjoyment of a late afternoon, or, as we call it down here, the evening."