more _flower_ than dog! Tibe, come away from that door _instantly_!"

The flower had paused to see whether he approved of my lunch, and from
the way he turned back a protruding black drapery of underlip from a
pair of upstanding ivory tusks, I judged that neither it nor I found
favor in his eyes. Perhaps he resented laughter in mine; yet there was
something after all in the flower simile, if not precisely what the
blossom's adoring mistress meant. Tibe's face distinctly resembled a
pansy, but an appalling pansy, the sort of pansy you would not like to
meet in the dark.

Whatever may have been his opinion of me, he had to be dragged by the
collar from my door, and later I caught the glitter of his gaze through
the lattice.

Aunt Fay slipped in between bench and table, sitting down opposite to
me, and when the nephew took his old place I had glimpses of her over
his shoulder.

She was unfastening her veil. Now it had fallen. Alas for any hopes
which the trim, youthful figure might have raised! Her thick gray hair
was plastered down over temples, cheeks, and ears, and a pair of
uncommonly large blue spectacles left her eyes to the imagination.

"I began to be afraid there might have been some mistake in the telegram
I sent, after I got your letter saying I mustn't come to your address,"
began Nephew Ronald, hastily, after a moment of silence that followed
the dropping of the veil. "What I said was, 'Buiten Oord, third arbor on
the left as you come in by main entrance, lunch quarter past twelve. Any
cabman will know the place.' Was the message all right?"

"Yes," replied Aunt Fay; "but I suffer a little with my eyes. That's why
I stopped when I came to the next arbor. I'm late, because darling Tibe
ran away just as I was hailing a cab, so I had to let that one go, and
rescue him from the crowd. Wherever he goes he has a throng round him.
People admire him so much. Down, my angel! You mustn't put your feet on
strange gentlemen's tables, when you're invited to lunch. He's hungry,
poor lamb."

"I hope you are also," said Nephew, politely; but his voice was
heavy. I wondered if he were disappointed in Aunt, or if it was only
that the Pansy had got on his nerves. "Here's my waiter. We'll have
something to eat, and talk things over as we lunch. There's a tremendous
_menu_ for a _table d'hote_ meal--thoroughly Dutch. No other people
could get through it and live. Probably you would prefer----"

"Let me see. Potage d'Artoi