his food as usual and prepared his coffee.

"Uncle Tucker's cup has no handle, Cynthia," she said with
concern. "Let me take this one and give him another."

"Well, I never!" exclaimed Cynthia, bending over to examine the
break with her near-sighted squint. "We'll soon have to begin
using Aunt Susannah's set, if this keeps up. Uncle Boaz, you've
broken another cup to-day."

Her tone was sharp with irritation, and the fine wrinkles caused
by ceaseless small worries appeared instantly between her
eyebrows. Christopher, watching her, remembered that she had worn
the same expression during the scene with Lila, and it annoyed
him unspeakably that she should be able to descend so readily,
and with equal energy, upon so insignificant a grievance as a bit
of broken china.

Uncle Boaz hobbled round the table and peered contemptuously at
the cup which Lila held.

"Dar warn' no use bruckin' dat ar one," he observed, "'caze 'twuz
bruck a'ready." " Oh, there won't be a piece left presently,"
pursued Cynthia indignantly; and Christopher felt suddenly that
there was something contemptible in the passion she expended upon
trifles. He wondered if Tucker noticed how horribly petty it all
was to lament a broken cup when the tears were hardly dried on
Lila's cheeks. Finishing hurriedly, he pushed back his chair and
rose from the table, shaking his head in response to Cynthia's
request that he should go in to see his mother. "Not now," he