And sure enough, the deft waitress whisked the details of the accident out of sight, spread a large fresh napkin at Azalea’s place, set another plate for her, and was passing her the platter of chicken almost before she realised what was going on.

“Well, I never!” she exclaimed; “that was some stunt!  Say, I’m sorry, Cousin Patty,—­but I’m a little kerflummixed,—­and I may as well own up to it.”

“Oh, don’t be that!” Patty laughed, carelessly.  “Forget the past and enjoy a piece of hot chicken.  It’s real good,—­isn’t it?”

“It’s great!  I never tasted anything like it!” Whereupon, Azalea took in her fingers a wing and, with both elbows on the table, proceeded to enjoy it in her own informal way.  But both little fingers were carefully extended at right angles to the others.  She glanced at them now and then, to make sure.

Her equanimity restored by Patty’s kindliness and tact, the girl lapsed into what was, doubtless, her customary way of eating.  She displayed undue gusto, smacked her lips at the appearance of a dainty dish and when the dessert proved to be ice cream, she rolled her eyes ceilingward, and patted her chest in a very ecstasy of anticipation.

It was too much for Farnsworth.  He appreciated Patty’s patience and endurance, but he knew just how she felt.  And it was his cousin who was acting like a wild Indian at their pretty home table!

“Azalea,” he said,—­Norah had left the dining-room,—­“who brought you up?  Your mother died some years ago.  With whom have you lived since?”

“Why,—­oh,—­only with Papa.”

“But Uncle Thorpe,—­I remember him well,—­was a simple soul, but he was a quiet, well-behaved man.  Why didn’t he teach you to be more restrained in your ways,—­especially at table?”

“Restrained?  Oh, you mean I eat too much!  Well, I have got a big appetite, but to-night I guess I’m specially hungry.  Or else your eats are specially good!  You don’t mind how much I eat, do you, Cousin Patty?”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Farnsworth went on, trying to look severe but obliged to smile at Azalea’s total unconsciousness of any wrong manners on her part.  “But she does care if you behave like a ‘wild and woolly,’ although she’s too polite to say so!”

“Wild and woolly nothing!  I’ve been awful careful to crook out my finger,—­and that’s the very reason why I upset the tumbler!”

“That’s true,” agreed Patty, “and so, Zaly, suppose you discontinue that habit.  It isn’t done this year.”

“Honest?  That so?  I’d be mighty glad to quit it!”

“Do, then,” put in Bill.  “And while we’re on the subject, you won’t mind if I go into it a little more deeply,—­will you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for one thing, they don’t put elbows on the table this season as much as formerly.”

“Pooh!  I know that!  I didn’t mean to,—­but I forgot.  I guess I know how to behave,—­if I don’t always do it!”