How silly I am--but I mean, how would you care to be forced to do something you did not like ?" Michael thought of his own fate.
"By Jove! I should hate it!" "Well--you can understand me!" Then the door opened, and the butler and footman brought in the tea, eyeing their master's guest furtively, while they maintained that superbly aloof manner of well-bred English servants.

The pause their entrance caused gave Mr.Arranstoun time to think, and an idea gradually began to unfold itself in his brain--and unconsciously he took out, and then replaced in his breast pocket, a mauve, closely-written letter, while a frown of deep cogitation crept over his face.
Miss Delburg, for her part, was only thrilled with the sight of the very agreeable tea, and after waiting a moment to see what her preoccupied host would do when the servants left the room, hunger forced her to fall to the temptation of a particularly appetizing chocolate cake, which she surreptitiously seized, and began munching with the frank joy of a child.
"I do love them!" she sighed, "and we never were allowed them, only once a month after Moravia Cloudwater got that awful toothache, and had to have a big grinder pulled out." Michael was paying no attention to her; he had walked rapidly up and down the room once or twice, much to her astonishment.
At last he spoke.
"I have an idea--but first let me give you some tea--No--do help yourself," then he paused awkwardly, and she at once proceeded to fill her cup.
Binko had condescended to emerge from his basket under the table.
Tea-time was an hour when he allowed himself to take an interest in human beings.
"Oh! you darling!" the girl cried, putting down her cup.

"You fat, lovely, wrinkly darling!" "He is a nice dog," his master admitted; his voice was actually nervous--and he pulled Binko to him by his solid, fleshy paws, while he sat down in his chair again.
Miss Delburg had got back into her seat, where she munched a cake and continued her tea.

The chair was so deep and long that her little bits of feet did not nearly reach the ground, but dangled there.
"Mayn't I pour you out some, too ?" she asked, getting forward again.

"I do love to pour out--and do you take sugar--?
I like lumps and lumps of it." "Oh--er--yes," Michael agreed absently, and then he went on with the determined air of a person getting something off his chest.