“Whew, ain't it thin?” he ejaculated.
“Why, Eddy!” Charlotte cried, flushing with dismay.
“I don't care. It is awful thin,” persisted the boy. He held the saucer before his eyes. “I can see you through it; yes, I can,” said he.
But Mrs. Anderson, although her old-fashioned ideas of the decorous behavior due from children at table were somewhat offended, and she later told her son that it did seem to her that the boy must have been somewhat neglected, was yet very susceptible to flattery of those teacups, which had descended to her from her own mother, and which she had always regarded as superior to any of the Anderson family china, of which there was quite a store. So she merely smiled and remarked gently that the china was very old, and she believed quite rare, and it was, indeed, unusually thin, yet not a piece of the original set had been broken.
“Why didn't we have china like this instead of that we have?” demanded Eddy of Charlotte.
“Hush, dear,” said Charlotte. “This china is so very old and valuable, you know, that not every one could—that we could not— I believe we had some very pretty china in our family, but it all got broken,” she added.
“It didn't begin to be so pretty as this,” said Eddy. “I remember it. The cups were like bowls, and there were black wreaths around them. There weren't any handles, either. I don't see why we couldn't have got some china as pretty as this. Suppose it was valuable. Why, I don't believe that we have now is paid for. What difference would it make?”
Charlotte blushed so that Mrs. Anderson felt an impulse to draw the poor, little, troubled head upon her shoulder and tell her not to mind.
“Let me give you some more of the quince preserve, dear,” she said, in the softest voice; and Charlotte, who did not want it, passed her little glass dish to take advantage of the opportunity afforded her to cover her confusion.
“What difference would it make, say, Charlotte?” persisted Eddy.