The table was tastefully decorated with flowers, which grew about the house in lavish profusion.  In warm climates nature adorns herself with true feminine vanity.

“What a beautiful table!” exclaimed Tom, before they were seated.

“The decorations are mine,” said Clara proudly.  “I cut the flowers and arranged them all myself.”

“Which accounts for the admirable effect,” rejoined Tom with a bow, before Ellis, to whom the same thought had occurred, was able to express himself.  He had always counted himself the least envious of men, but for this occasion he coveted Tom Delamere’s readiness.

“The beauty of the flowers,” observed old Mr. Delamere, with sententious gallantry, “is reflected upon all around them.  It is a handsome company.”

Mrs. Ochiltree beamed upon the table with a dry smile.

“I don’t perceive any effect that it has upon you or me,” she said; “And as for the young people, ‘Handsome is as handsome does.’  If Tom here, for instance, were as good as he looks”—­

“You flatter me, Aunt Polly,” Tom broke in hastily, anticipating the crack of the whip; he was familiar with his aunt’s conversational idiosyncrasies.

“If you are as good as you look,” continued the old lady, with a cunning but indulgent smile, “some one has been slandering you.”

“Thanks, Aunt Polly!  Now you don’t flatter me.”

“There is Mr. Ellis,” Mrs. Ochiltree went on, “who is not half so good-looking, but is steady as a clock, I dare say.”

“Now, Aunt Polly,” interposed Mrs. Carteret, “let the gentlemen alone.”

“She doesn’t mean half what she says,” continued Mrs. Carteret apologetically, “and only talks that way to people whom she likes.”

Tom threw Mrs. Carteret a grateful glance.  He had been apprehensive, with the sensitiveness of youth, lest his old great-aunt should make a fool of him before Clara’s family.  Nor had he relished the comparison with Ellis, who was out of place, anyway, in this family party.  He had never liked the fellow, who was too much of a plodder and a prig to make a suitable associate for a whole-souled, generous-hearted young gentleman.  He tolerated him as a visitor at Carteret’s and as a member of the Clarendon Club, but that was all.

“Mrs. Ochiltree has a characteristic way of disguising her feelings,” observed old Mr. Delamere, with a touch of sarcasm.

Ellis had merely flushed and felt uncomfortable at the reference to himself.  The compliment to his character hardly offset the reflection upon his looks.  He knew he was not exactly handsome, but it was not pleasant to have the fact emphasized in the presence of the girl he loved; he would like at least fair play, and judgment upon the subject left to the young lady.