"All what?"
"All foreigners."
The breakfast-bell rang.
No trays went up-stairs that morning. Everybody appeared, and the two girls couldn't remember when so gay a party had assembled in the dingy dining-room. But the pleasantry was of that strictly family character whose special savor is withheld from the outsider.
As Ethan was taking his place by Mrs. Gano, he stopped suddenly, catching sight of the preternaturally tall silver coffee-pot, and made obeisance.
"Sir or madam," he said, "I've travelled far since we parted, but I've never seen your equal."
Mrs. Gano laughed with the rest.
"That means the Mioto air has made you readier for your morning cup than you've been since you were here before. Or perhaps you agree with Frederika Bremer's old woman, 'When I see a coffee-pot, it's the same to me as if I saw an angel from heaven.'"
"She must have meant this one."
"Emmie has another name for it," said John Gano, also unbending.