"Give it up," said Fran. "There's the gong for luncheon and Edith bringing the mail. I hope there's a letter from mother."
"There is," said Edith.
"Please excuse me, Miss Estelle, if I read it now," begged Frances, settling into her seat at the table.
"Of course, dear," was the reply as Estelle took Mrs. Thayne's usual place, for she and Edith were having their meals with the young people.
"Now, Roger, pause," exclaimed Win, suddenly. "What are you going to do with that?" he added, as the attention of all was concentrated on the surprised Roger who sat with arrested hand suspending above his plate a spoon heaped with sugar.
"Whatever is he doing?" protested Estelle gently. "Such a mixture! How can he eat sugar on his eggs?"
"Thought it was pancakes," explained Roger, indicating the omelet before him, but relinquishing the sugar.
"Mother's coming on Wednesday," Frances announced happily. "And she's met a friend in London, Mrs. Aldrich, who's coming with her for a few days. Isn't that splendid, boys? You'll like her, Miss Estelle. She's sweet."
"I shall be glad to see any friend of your mother's," said Estelle cordially. Looking to see whether Roger was sufficiently supplied with butter, she did not notice the smile with which Win glanced at her.