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Did you tell Jane she might have two apples, Esther?"
"No. I told her she might have one. But I don't suppose two will hurt
her." Esther was used to Aunt Amy's inconsequences which made impossible
the discussion of any subjects save the most trivial. But she sighed a
little as she realised anew that there was no help here.
"Jane is feeling badly about Timothy," she explained. "Don't you think
we might have tea in here, Auntie? It is so cool."
Aunt Amy, who had been anxiously rubbing an imaginary spot on the table,
looked up with a startled air. "Oh, Esther!" she said, in the voice of a
frightened child. Then with a child's obvious effort to control rising
tears, "Of course, if you say so, Esther. But--but do you feel like
risking the round table? Couldn't we have it on the little table in
the corner?"
The girl settled the last of her flowers and pushed back her hair with a
worried gesture. A pang of mingled irritation and anxiety lent an edge
of sharpness to her soft voice.
"Auntie dear! I thought you had quite forgotten that fancy.


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