"No. We’re both of us too much dressed up to wash dishes," she remarked. "I don’t care if they ain’t done for a week, Mr. Jack. I’m goin’ to enjoy myself with you, this afternoon. You make yourself at home in any part o’ the house but the kitchen for twenty minutes, and then I’ll sit down with you. I guess you haven’t forgotten your way ’round."
Jack regarded her with serious brown eyes. "Are there any moths in your sitting-room carpet, Aunt Love?" he asked.
Miss Berry looked amazement, and even a little anxiety lest her young friend’s brain had received more of a shock than she realized. "What makes you ask that?" she demanded, being careful to speak gently.
"I did, one time, have some trouble with that carpet," said Miss Berry doubtfully, "but pepper’s good; I used that. Camphor, too."
"Tobacco is excellent," declared Van Tassel, looking pensively into the depths of his coffee cup.
A light of comprehension broke over Miss Berry’s face.
"Mr. Jack, do you smoke!" she exclaimed reproachfully. "Do you shut those shiny white teeth o’ yours on an old pipe-stem! Oh, there never ought a cigar to go into your mouth, never in the world. Do you _smoke_?"
"Well—on Fourth of July’s, and New Years, and Christmas, and—birthdays, I do sometimes celebrate, and I thought if you wanted the moths kept out of your carpet— One thing really, Aunt Love, if cigar smoke is disagreeable to you, you ought to have told me before betraying me into such a dinner."
"It isn’t any more disagreeable to me than it is to any other woman of good principles," returned Miss Berry firmly. "’T isn’t a question o’ that. I can show you statistics, Mr. Jack."
"Yes, I have seen statistics," he answered, mildly. "You haven’t time to look them up just now, and I think I’ll walk out of doors a while and discuss the movement cure with Blitzen, and ask him what part of the chicken he’ll take."
"No, no, Mr. Jack. There ain’t enough paths shoveled to make it pleasant to go out around the house. I let Obed go just as soon as he’d done what was absolutely necessary this mornin’. ’T ain’t that a cigar’s unpleasant to my nose. It’s my principles it hurts; but ’t ain’t so bad if you only smoke one for an occasional recreation. Remember you can’t suit me except by makin’ yourself entirely at home;" and the hospitable woman arose from the table. "If you don’t smoke now in the sittin’-room, I shall feel bad."