``Yes; and where's he grown old? For whom
has he worked the last fifty years, while he's
been growing old? I wonder if you think I'd
let Pete leave this house as long as he _wants_ to
stay! As for Dong Ling--''

A sudden movement of Bertram's hand arrested
her words. She looked up to find Pete in
the doorway.

``Dinner is served, sir,'' announced the old
butler, his eyes on his master's face.

William rose with alacrity, and gave his arm
to Aunt Hannah.

``Well, I'm sure we're ready for dinner,'' he
declared.

It was a good dinner, and it was well served.
It could scarcely have been otherwise with Dong
Ling in the kitchen and Pete in the dining-room
doing their utmost to please. But even had the
turkey been tough instead of tender, and even
had the pies been filled with sawdust instead of
with delicious mincemeat, it is doubtful if four
at the table would have known the difference:
Cyril and Marie at one end were discussing where
to put their new sideboard in their dining-room,
and Bertram and Billy at the other were talking