Possibly some time in the past the Spences had been a leisured people.  They had brought from the old country the tradition of afternoon tea.  Many others had, no doubt, done the same but with these others the tradition had not persisted.  In the more crowded life of a new country they had let it go.  The Spences had not let it go.  It wasn’t their way.  And in time it had assumed the importance of a survival.  It stood for some-thing.  Other Bainbridgers had “Teas.”  The Spences had “tea.”

Desire had been in her new home a month and had just made a remark which showed her astonished Aunt Caroline that tea was no more of a surprise to her than fireplaces had been.

“Do you mean to tell me you have always had tea?” Miss Campion ceased from pouring in pure surprise.

“Why, yes.”  Desire’s surprise was even greater than Aunt Caroline’s.  “Li Ho never dreamed of forgetting tea.  He served it much more regularly than dinner because sometimes there wasn’t any dinner to serve.  It was a great comfort—­the tea, I mean.”

“But how extraordinary!  And a Chinaman, too.”

“I suppose my mother trained him.”

“And Vancouver isn’t Bainbridge,” put in Benis lazily.  “A great many people there are more English than they are in England.  All the old-time Chinese ‘boys’ served tea as a matter of course.”

“Even when no one was calling?”

“Absolutely sans callers of any kind.”

“Well, I am sure that is very nice.”  But it was plain from Aunt Caroline’s tone that she thought it a highly impertinent infringement upon the privileges of a Spence.  She poured her nephew’s cup in aloof silence and refreshed herself with a second before re-entering the conversation.  When she did, it was with something of a bounce.

“Benis,” she said abruptly, “can you tell me just exactly what is a Primitive?”

“Eh?” The professor had been trying to read the afternoon News-Telegram and sip tea at the same time.

Aunt Caroline repeated her question.

“Certainly,” said Spence.  “That is to say, I can be fairly exact.  Would you like me to begin now?  If you have nothing to do until dinner I can get you nicely started.  And there is a course of reading—­”

Aunt Caroline stopped him with dignity.  “Thank you, Benis.  I infer that the subject is a complicated one.  Therefore I will word my question more simply.  Would an Indian, for instance, be considered a Primitive?”

“Um—­some Indians might.”

“Oh,” thoughtfully, “then I suppose that is what Mrs. Stopford Brown meant.”

Her delighted listeners exchanged an appreciative glance.

“Very probably,” said Benis, with tact, “were you discussing Primitives at the Club?”