Lucina looked, in spite of her manners, at the tray when it was on
the table before her very face and eyes. It was covered with a napkin
of finest damask, whose flower pattern glistened like frostwork, and
upon it were ranged little cups and saucers of pink china as thin and
transparent as shells, a pink sugar-bowl to match, a small silver
teapot under a satin cozy, a silver cream-jug, a plate of delicate
bread-and-butter, and one of fruit-cake.

"You will have a cup of tea, will you not, dear?" said Aunt Camilla.

"If you please; thank you, ma'am," replied Lucina, striving to look
decorously pleased and not too delighted at the prospect of the
fruit-cake. Tea and bread-and-butter presented small attractions to
her, but she did love old 'Liza's fruit-cake, made after a famous
receipt which had been in the Merritt family for generations.

Miss Camilla removed the cozy and began pouring the tea. Lucina took
a napkin, being so bidden, spread it daintily over her lap, and
tucked a corner in her neck. The feast was about to commence, when a
loud, jovial voice was heard in the direction of the house:

"Camilla! Camilla! Lucina, where are you all?"

"That's father!" cried Lucina, brightening, and immediately Squire
Eben Merritt came striding down between the box-ridges, and Jerome
Edwards was at his heels.

"Well, how are you, sister?" Squire Eben cried, merrily; and in the
same breath, "I have brought another guest to your tea-drinking,