nterpretation of his motives made it difficult for
William to speak. "Do YOU think," he began, hoarsely, "do you THINK--"

"They're so small, too," Mrs. Baxter went on. "SHE probably wouldn't be
sick if she ate them all."

"My heavens!" he burst forth. "Do you think I was worrying about--" He
broke off, unable to express himself save by a few gestures of despair.
Again finding his voice, and a great deal of it, he demanded: "Do you
realize that Miss PRATT will be here within less than half an hour? What
do you suppose she'd think of the people of this town if she was invited
out, expecting decent treatment, and found two-thirds of the cakes eaten
up before she got there, and what was left of 'em all mauled and pawed
over and crummy and chewed-up lookin' from some wretched CHILD?" Here
William became oratorical, but not with marked effect, since Jane
regarded him with unmoved eyes, while Mrs. Baxter continued to be mildly
preoccupied in arranging the table. In fact, throughout this episode
in controversy the ladies' party had not only the numerical but the
emotional advantage. Obviously, the approach of Miss Pratt was not to
them what it was to William. "I tell you," he declaimed;--"yes, I tell
you that it wouldn't take much of this kind of thing to make Miss Pratt
think the people of this town were--well, it wouldn't take much to make
her think the people of this town hadn't learned much of how to
behave in society and were pretty uncilivized!" He corrected himself.
"Uncivilized! And to think Miss Pratt has to find that out in MY house!
To think--"

"Now, Willie," said Mrs. Baxter, gently, "you'd better go up and brush
your hair again before your friends come. You mustn't let yourself get
so excited."

"'Excited!'" he cried, incredulously. "Do you think I'm EXCITED?
Ye gods!" He smote his hands together and, in his despair of her
intelligence, would have flung himself down upon a chair, but was
arrested half-way by simultaneous loud outcries from his mother and
Jane.

"Don't sit on the CAKES!" they both screamed.

Saving himself and the pan of wafers by a supreme contortion at the last
instant, William decided to remain upon his feet. "What do I care for
the cakes?" he demanded, contemptuously, beginning to pace the floor.
"It's the question of principle I'm talking about! Do you think it's
right to give the people of this town a poor name when strangers like
Miss PRATT come to vis--"

"Willie!" His mother look