"Is it different in the morning?" Richard inquired.

"Quite different. They are rather apt to take things more seriously in
the morning. The day's work is just before them and they are inclined to
discuss grave questions and dispose of them. But at night, when the
lights are burning and every one comes home with a sense of duty done,
it is natural to throw off the weights and be merry over the same
matters which, perhaps, it seemed must be argued over in the morning. We
all look forward to the dinner-table."

"I should think you might," agreed Richard, looking about him once more
at the faces which surrounded him. He caught Roberta's eye, as he did
so--much to his satisfaction--and she gave him a straightforward, steady
look, as if she were taking his measure for the first time. Then, quite
suddenly, she smiled at him and turned away to speak to Ted, who sat by
her side.

Richard continued to watch, and saw that immediately Ted looked his way
and also smiled. He wanted so much to know what this meant, that, as
soon as dinner was over and they were all leaving the room, he fell in
with the boy and, putting his hand through Ted's arm, whispered with
artful intent: "Was my tie under my left ear?"

Ted stared up at him. "Your tie's all right, Mr. Kendrick."

"Then it wasn't that. Perhaps my coat collar was turned up?"

"Why, no," the boy laughed. "You look as right as anything. What made
you think--"