Suddenly The Seraph spoke in that cock-sure way of his.
"There's a piwate at Peggs."
Mrs. Handsomebody looked at him sharply.
"What's that?" she demanded. At the same instant Angel and I kicked him under cover of the table.
"What did you say?" repeated Mrs. Handsomebody sternly.
"Funny ole gennelman at the Cwibbage Peggs," replied The Seraph with his mouth full.
Mrs. Handsomebody greatly respected Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer Pegg, and this play of words on the name incensed her.
"Am I to understand Alexander," she gobbled, "that you are making game of the Mortimer Peggs?"
"Yes," giggled the wretched Seraph, "it's a cwibbage game. You play it wiv Peggs."
"Leave the table instantly!" ordered Mrs. Handsomebody. "You are becoming unbearable."
The Seraph cast one anguished look at his dumpling and burst into tears. We could hear his wails growing ever fainter as he plodded up the stairs.
"Mary Ellen, remove that dumpling!" commanded Mrs. Handsomebody.
Angel and I began to eat very fast. There
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