‘Well, Everard, and what have you to say for yourself?’ demanded Auntie Anna, in a severe tone, as soon as she could make herself heard. For quite ten minutes, every one had been talking at once.
‘What have I to say?’ repeated Mr. Berkeley, with his eyes twinkling. ‘Why, plum-cake, to be sure! You haven’t offered me any tea yet.’
His sons nearly wrecked the tea-table in their efforts to be first in supplying his wants; and Auntie Anna gave up the attempt to be firm.
‘Well, well,’ she said, shaking her head, ‘you always were incorrigible, Everard! But what about the end of your lecturing tour?’
‘There won’t be any end, as far as I’m concerned,’ smiled her brother, devouring plum-cake with avidity.
‘But–but what did they say to your extraordinary departure?’ cried Auntie Anna.
‘I didn’t give them time to say much,’ answered Mr. Berkeley. ‘The boat was starting in a couple of hours, you see.’
Auntie Anna threw up her hands. ‘Of all the improvident, hot-headed––’ she was beginning, when the change of expression in her brother’s face silenced her. He held out his cup to her with a pathetic look.
‘You always forget,’ he said. ‘Two lumps, please.’
The boys flung themselves upon the sugar-basin, and more than two lumps found their way into his cup. Jill took the opportunity to present Barbara’s friends to him, and Mr. Berkeley smiled and said something genial to both of them, which made Jean forget at once how shy she was and drove away the last bit of Angela’s confusion over her stupid mistake. But his attention soon wandered back to his children, and he stirred his tea and beamed upon all three of them alternately, until the others began to feel that they were in the way. His eyes rested longest of all upon Babs, who lay on her couch with an expression of complete contentment on her face; and Auntie Anna saw, and understood.