Denis looked at Ted with an injured expression.
"That's how I'm thrated in the bosom of me family, Lancaster! But we'll heap coals of fire upon her ungrateful pate, and won't let her soil her nasty little hands."
"We will—we won't."
The Atom carried the last plate into the scullery.
Nell tilted her chin, and held out her hands.
"Indeed, then, I will wash up. These hands were made for work, and not for play! Edward, what are you doing?"
"Trying to see them," peering close. "I see them! So they were made for work?"
"That grin does not become your naturally saturnine countenance, Edward. I wouldn't think of intrusting Aunt Kezia's china to two great clumsy boys."
Denis looked at Ted, then strolled towards the scullery.
"I say, O.B.," said Ted, and followed him in a casual sort of way. The next minute the door between scullery and kitchen was banged to, Denis turned the key in the lock, and he and Ted stood grinning through the upper part of the door, which was made of glass. Nell sprang forward, but was too late. Then suddenly a twinkle crept into her eyes.