her life, and talks of a previous existence, and so gets over a
difficulty. I felt that it was a tribute to Diana that he treated
me so kindly, and I earned his gratitude and commanded his respect
by refusing food at his hands. I said I liked helping myself at
breakfast. He insisted, however, on passing me the toast. This I
felt was apart from Diana altogether.

After a few moments the little gray wad attracted his attention,
and his eyebrows expressed a wish to know what it was.

"Betty made it," I said.

"And what is it? "

"I wonder!" I said. "I think it must come under the head of black
bread."

" What are you going to do with it?" he asked.

I answered, "Why, eat it, of course; only I can't make up my mind
how. What should you say, two bites or a swallow?"

His interest was now thoroughly aroused; he had evidently never
before met an aunt professionally. He looked at me solemnly and
said, "You are going to eat that?"

"I am an aunt, you see," said; "a professional aunt."

"A what?" he asked.