'Uncle Ted says he would like a cup of tea after his journey,' her aunt went on, 'and I have a letter I want to send this evening, so you must pour it out for him while I write.'
Rosamond was only too pleased to do so; they found her uncle waiting in the drawing-room, where some tea had just been brought in. It was a pretty sight, so at least thought Uncle Ted, to watch the little girl's neat and careful ways, as she handled the tea-things with her tiny fingers, looking as important as if it were a very serious affair indeed.
'I suppose you've often made tea for your father and mother; you seem quite at home about it,' said her uncle, as she brought him his cup.
'Yes,' Rosamond replied, 'I used to have breakfast alone with papa sometimes when mamma was tired and didn't get up early. What pretty cups these are, Uncle Ted! I do love pretty things, and you and Aunt Mattie have so many.'
These cups are very old,' said Mr. Caryll, 'they belonged to our—your father's and my great grandmother—your great, great grandmother that would be, so they are rather precious.'
Rosamond looked at the cups with still greater admiration.
'I'll be very careful of them,' she said; then, after a pause—'the cups at Moor Edge were so thick. I never saw such thick cups.'
There came a little laugh from Aunt Mattie in her corner at the writing-table.
'Things need to be pretty strong at Moor Edge,' she said.
'Yes,' said Uncle Ted, 'the young men there do a good deal of knocking about, I fancy. How did you get on with them, my little Rose? You are not accustomed to racketty boys. I hope they didn't startle you?'