“Oh, Gum—we are solemn! What’s the matter with you? Georgy—say something—else I’s’ll begin to feel nervous.” “What shall I say?” he asked, shifting his feet and resting his elbows on his knees. “Oh, Lor!” she cried in great impatience. He did not help her, but sat clasping his hands, smiling on one side of his face. He was nervous. He looked at the pictures, the ornaments, and everything in the room; Lettie got up to settle some flowers on the mantel-piece, and he scrutinised her closely. She was dressed in some blue foulard stuff, with lace at the throat, and lace cuffs to the elbow. She was tall and supple; her hair had a curling fluffiness very charming. He was no taller than she, and looked shorter, being strongly built. He too had a grace of his own, but not as he sat stiffly on a horse-hair chair. She was elegant in her movements. After a little while mother called us in to supper. “Come,” said Lettie to him, “take me in to supper.” He rose, feeling very awkward. “Give me your arm,” said she to tease him. He did so, and flushed under his tan, afraid of her round arm half hidden by lace, which lay among his sleeve. When we were seated she flourished her spoon and asked him what he would have. He hesitated, looked at the strange dishes and said he would have some cheese. They insisted on his eating new, complicated meats. “I’m sure you like tantafflins, don’t you Georgie?” said Alice, in her mocking fashion. He was _not_ sure. He could not analyse the flavours, he felt confused and bewildered even through his sense of taste! Alice begged him to have salad. “No, thanks,” said he. “I don’t like it.” “Oh, George!” she said, “How _can_ you say so when I’m _offering_ it you.” “Well—I’ve only had it once,” said he, “and that was when I was working with Flint, and he gave us fat bacon and bits of lettuce soaked in vinegar—‘’Ave a bit more salit,’ he kept saying, but I’d had enough.” “But all our lettuce,” said Alice with a wink, “is as sweet as a nut, no vinegar about our lettuce.” George laughed in much confusion at her pun on my sister’s name. “I believe you,” he said, with pompous gallantry. “Think of that!” cried Alice. “Our Georgie believes me. Oh, I am so, so pleased!”