That noon as he and Mr. Croyden sat at luncheon he remarked mischievously:
"You did not tell me, sir, that you made C. C. ware here."
Mr. Croyden raised his eyes quickly and laughed.
"So they passed that joke on to you, did they?" he said. "C. C. ware indeed! You young rascal! I have half a mind now not to send to your mother that blue vase you admired so much."
"That blue vase! The one with the girl's head on it?" cried Theo. "Are you really going to send it to Mother?"
"If you behave yourself I am," came grimly from the older man. "And if she will let you come and visit us again some time."
"Oh, Mother'll be crazy over that vase. It is a corker!" exclaimed Theo. "I can tell her how I saw them making it."
"You shall carry it back to her then, since you think she will like it," declared Mr. Croyden. "That is unless you would rather select as a present a piece of C. C. ware," he added humorously.
Theo smiled and shook his head.
"Or maybe you would prefer a bit of Samian ware, or jet ware, or Rockingham ware, or yellow ware, or stoneware, or ironstone china, or white granite, or Queen's."