red-lipped, and serious. Its owner eyed it perplexedly awhile,
then gave up the riddle.

"If you look like pictures and poetry you _do_, and that's all
there is to it. I suppose living with Grandfather's had an effect on
me... I wonder..." Joy still stared steadily into the glass--"I
wonder if having somebody in love with me would make a difference.
It's the only thing Grandfather's ever said he was willing to have
happen to me. He's always talking about 'I would give you up
willingly to the first breath of true love....' But there's never
anybody comes to his parties you could love with a pair of tongs...
I wonder if he _would?_ It would have to be love at first
sight, too, I suppose. He doesn't think much of any other kind of
love.... But I'd be dreadfully frightened of him.... I hope he'd
have blond curly hair!"

She lifted herself from her leaning position, and went and curled up
on the side of the bed, the better to think.

"There's no use wondering about a lover," she decided. "Lovers
_never_ come to hear Grandfather read, not unless they come in
pairs to get out of the rain, like the animals in the ark.... Anyway
I don't think I'd want the one today, even if he hadn't been a pair.
But a nice fresh one that didn't belong to anybody else...."

Grandmother, released at last from finding out what people wanted in
their tea, and giving it to them, hurried into the room at this
point, and was very much relieved to find Joy perfectly well to all
appearances, and sitting quietly on the side of the bed gazing off
into space.