w, so I followed her. The
water--which we got at a spring in the deep grass, and drank out of a
tin dipper, was deliciously cold, more refreshing than iced water, and
didn't make you thirstier than ever again, in half a second. Still, I
couldn't tear my thoughts from tea, and when we got back to the house I
was encouraged to find that Mrs. Trowbridge and Patty had disappeared.

"I must go and help them get tea," said Ide, "if you'll excuse me."

I said "of course," with alacrity, and hoped soon to see a tray coming
out into the verandah, where it was so cool and breezy now. Half an
hour passed, however, and nothing happened. It was getting on towards
six o'clock, and a smell of frying floated to us from the kitchen.

"I suppose they're beginning to cook something that takes a long time
to do, for dinner--or supper, rather," I thought. "She _said_ they were
getting tea, so----"

"Tea's ready, good people, if you're ready for it," announced Mrs.
Trowbridge's gentle voice at the door.

Mr. Trowbridge and Mr. Brett got up, and I did too, disappointed that
we weren't to have it out of doors; but still, I reminded myself, the
sitting room would be nice and cool. But I found that we were being led
through to the dining room.

There was the long table laid out again, with a regular sit-down meal;
cream cheese, and cake, and blackberries, and a big plate of honey;
some curious kind of smoked meat cut very thin, and the potatoes which
I'd smelled frying.

"What an odd tea!" I thought. But the oddest part was that after all
there _wasn't_ any tea.

We sat down, and at the far end of the table were two young men, all
soapy and sleek, their hair very wet and their sleeves (with no cuffs
showing) very short. We were introduced to each other, and they bowed
rather awkwardly without saying anything, but I couldn't understand
their names. One of the two never spoke, and ate with his knife until
he saw me looking, when he stopped and got red. After that he cut up
everything on his plate quite small before he ate it, and stuck out his
elbows. The other, who sat next to Ide, talked to her in a low voice,
but I caught the words "picnic," and "beaux," and they both giggled a
great deal.

Instead of tea, those who liked had black coffee with thick cream, and
the others drank what I should call lemon-squash, but they all spoke of
it as lemonade.

It wasn't much past six when we finished, and soon Mr. Brett asked me
how I would lik