"Lying about being g-glad Sherman has lost all your money. Of course you were lying, w-weren't you? No-nobody but a raving maniac could be glad to be p-poor."
"Then I am a raving maniac," said Carolina, pouring the delicately brewed tea carefully into the tall, slender glasses. "Lemon or rum, Kate?"
"W-which will I like best? I--I've had four cups already to-day."
"Then you'd better have rum. It makes you sleep when you have had too much tea."
"Lemon for me, please," said St. Quentin.
"I remembered that," said Carolina, smiling. "And three lumps."
"P-put in some m-more rum, Carol. I can't taste it."
"What a Philistine!" cried St. Quentin. "To insult such tea with rum."
"It's quite g-good," murmured Kate, with her glass to her lips. "When y-you have enough of it."
"So you really think I can't mean it when I tell you I am glad that Sherman has lost all our money?" said Carolina. "Of course I am sorry on Addie's account--she cares a great deal and is quite miserable over her future prospects. But she has ten thousand a year from her own estate, so she can still educate the children and get along in some degree of comfort. But as for me"--she leaned forward in her chair with the whimsical idea of testing their calibre kindling in her eyes--"if you will believe me and will not scoff, I will tell you what my plan is."