"No. How should I?"
"Why—but I thought every one knew that!"
"I don't see why. How could a girl know about the work you men do unless you take the trouble to tell her?" Jean dimpled. "All through Europe you and Uncle Bob have talked glass, glass, glass—nothing but glass, and as you both seemed to understand what you were talking about I did not like to interrupt and ask questions; but I had no more idea than the man in the moon what you meant sometimes."
"Do you mean to say you know nothing at all about the process of glass-making, Jean?" asked Mr. Cabot.
"Not a thing."
"Well, well, well! You have been a very patient little lady, that is all I can say. Giusippe and I have been both rude and remiss, haven't we, Giusippe? I thought of course you understood; and yet it is not at all strange that you did not. As you say, how could you? Why didn't you ask us, dear?"
"Oh, I didn't like to. I hate to seem stupid and be a bother."
"You are neither of those things, dear child. Is she, Giusippe?"
"I should say not."
"Well then, if it is all the same to you, I do wish somebody would tell me whether glass is dug up out of the earth or is made of things mixed together like a pudding," said Jean.