a shame to have you sit at the machine that long," Alice said,
absently, adding, "And I'm sure we ought to let papa alone. Let's just
give it up, mama."

Mrs. Adams continued her thoughtful examination of the dress. "Did you
buy the chiffon and ribbon, Alice?"

"Yes. I'm sure we oughtn't to talk to him about it any more, mama."

"Well, we'll see."

"Let's both agree that we'll NEVER say another single word to him about
it," said Alice. "It'll be a great deal better if we just let him make
up his mind for himself."

CHAPTER V

With this, having more immediately practical questions before them, they
dropped the subject, to bend their entire attention upon the dress; and
when the lunch-gong sounded downstairs Alice was still sketching repairs
and alterations. She continued to sketch them, not heeding the summons.

"I suppose we'd better go down to lunch," Mrs. Adams said, absently.
"She's at the gong again." "In a minute, mama. Now about the
sleeves----" And she went on with her planning. Unfortunately the
gong was inexpressive of the mood of the person who beat upon it. It
consisted of three little metal bowls upon a string; they were unequal
in size, and, upon being tapped with a padded stick, gave forth
vibrations almost musically pleasant. It was Alice who had substituted
this contrivance for the brass "dinner-bell" in use throughout her
childhood; and neither she nor the others of her family realized that
the substitution of sweeter sounds had made the life of that household
more difficult. In spite of dismaying increases in wages, the Adamses
still strove to keep a cook; and, as they were unable to pay the higher
rates demanded by a good one, what they usually had was a whimsical
coloured woman of nomadic impulses. In the hands of such a person the
old-fashioned "dinner-bell" was satisfying; life could instantly be
made intolerable for any one dawdling on his way to a meal; the bell was
capable of every desirable profanity and left nothing bottled up in the
breast of the ringer. But the chamois-covered stick might whack upon
Alice's little Chinese bowls for a considerable length of time and
produce no great effect of urgency upon a hearer, nor any other effect,
except fury in the cook. The ironical impossibility of expressing
indignation otherwise than by sounds of gentle harmony proved
exasperating; the cook was apt to become surcharged, so that explosive
resignations, never rare, were somewhat more fre