"Wait, Willie. Jane doesn't mean to hurt your feelings--"

"My feelings!" he cried, the iciness of his demeanor giving way under
the strain of emotion. "You stand there and allow her to speak as she
did of one of the--one of the--" For a moment William appeared to be at
a loss, and the fact is that it always has been a difficult matter to
describe THE bright, ineffable divinity of the world to one's mother,
especially in the presence of an inimical third party of tender years.
"One of the--" he said; "one of the--the noblest--one of the noblest--"

Again he paused.

"Oh, Jane didn't mean anything," said Mrs. Baxter. "And if you think
Miss Pratt is so nice, I'll ask May Parcher to bring her to tea with us
some day. If it's too hot, we'll have iced tea, and you can ask Johnnie
Watson, if you like. Don't get so upset about things, Willie!"

"'Upset'!" he echoed, appealing to heaven against this word. "'Upset'!"
And he entered the house in a manner most dramatic.

"What made you say that?" Mrs. Baxter asked, turning curiously to Jane
when William had disappeared. "Where did you hear any such things?"

"I was there," Jane replied, gently eating on and on. William could come
and William could go, but Jane's alimentary canal went on forever.

"You were where, Jane?"

"At the Parchers'."