He was not pleased. He saw himself as the light of his
home, bringer of brightness, lightener of dull hours. It was a pretty
role. He insisted upon it. To maintain it intact, it was necessary to
turn upon their sister with concentrated irritation.
"Kindly settle these matters without bringing them to my attention at
meal-time," he said icily.
Lulu flushed and was silent. She was an olive woman, once handsome, now
with flat, bluish shadows under her wistful eyes. And if only she would
look at her brother Herbert and say something. But she looked in her
plate.
"I want some honey," shouted the child, Monona.
"There isn't any, Pet," said Lulu.
"I want some," said Monona, eyeing her stonily. But she found that her
hair-ribbon could be pulled forward to meet her lips, and she embarked
on the biting of an end. Lulu departed for some sauce and cake. It was
apple sauce. Mr. Deacon remarked that the apples were almost as good as
if he had stolen them. He was giving the impression that he was an
irrepressible fellow.
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