Patty made tea very prettily, for she excelled in domestic accomplishments, and as she handed Kenneth his cup, she said, roguishly, “There’s a perfect cup of tea, I can assure you.”
“Perfect tea, all right,” returned Ken, sipping it, “but a cup of tea can’t be a perfect thing, as it hasn’t complete symmetry of form.”
“What are you two talking about?” demanded Elise, who didn’t want Ken and Patty to have secrets from which she was excluded.
“Speaking of crystal balls,” said Patty, “I’ll show you one, Elise; a big one, too! Get Darby and Juliet, won’t you please, Ken?”
Kenneth obligingly brought the glass globe in from the dining-room, where they had left the goldfish to be by themselves.
“How jolly!” cried Elise. “And what lovely goldfish! These are the real Japanese ones, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” said Patty, smiling at Ken. “Being Japanese, they’re perfect of their kind. Make them stand on their tails and beg, Kenneth.”
“Oh, will they do that?” said Elise.
“Only on Wednesdays and Saturdays,” said Kenneth, gravely. “And on Fridays they sing. To-day is their rest day.”
“They look morbid,” said Roger. “Shall I jolly them up a bit?”