The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

proper mirror-like surface.
    “Mistuh Val,” Lucy’s penetrating voice made him start guiltily, “is yo’ or is yo’ not comin’ to brekfas’?”
    “I am,” he answered and started downstairs at his swiftest pace.
    The new ruler of their household was standing at the foot of the stairs, her knuckles resting on her broad hips. She eyed the boy sternly. Lucy eyed one, Val thought, much as a Scotch nurse Ricky and he had once had. They had never dared question any of Annie’s decrees, and one look from her had been enough to reduce them to instant order. Lucy’s eye had the same power. And now as she herded Val into the dining-room he felt like a six-year-old with an uneasy conscience.
    Rupert and Ricky were already seated and eating. That is, Ricky was eating, but Rupert was reading his morning mail.
    “Yo’all sits down,” said Lucy firmly, “an’ yo’all eats what’s on youah plate. Yo’all ain’ much fattah nor a jay-bird.”
    “I don’t see why she keeps comparing me to a living skeleton all the time,” Val complained as she departed kitchenward.
    “She told Letty-Lou yesterday,” supplied Ricky through a mouthful of popover, “that you are ’peaked lookin’.”
    “Why doesn’t she start in on Rupert? He needs another ten pounds or so.” Val reached for the butter. “And he hasn’t got a very good color, either.” Val surveyed his brother professionally. “Doesn’t get outdoors enough.”
    “No,” Ricky’s voice sounded aggrieved, “he’s too busy having secrets—”
    “Hmm,” Rupert murmured, more interested in his letter than in the conversation.
    “The trouble is that we are not Chinese bandits, Malay pirates, or Arab freebooters. We don’t possess color, life, enough—enough—”
    “Sugar,” Rupert interrupted Val, pushing his coffee-cup in the general direction of Ricky without raising his eyes from the page in his hand. She giggled.
    “So that’s what we lack. Well, now we know. How much sugar should we have, Rupert? Rupert—Mr. Rupert Ralestone—Mr. Rupert Ralestone of Pirate’s Haven!” Her voice grew louder and shriller until he did lay down his reading matter and really looked at them for the first time.
    “What do you want?”
    “A little attention,” answered Ricky sweetly. “We aren’t Chinese, Arabs, or Malays, but we are kind of nice to know, aren’t we, Val? If you’d only come out of your subconscious, or wherever you are most of the time, you’d find that out without being told.”
    Rupert laughed and pushed away his letters. “Sorry. I picked up the bad habit of reading at breakfast when I didn’t have my table brightened by your presence. I know,” he became serious, “that I haven’t been much of a family man. But there are reasons—”
    “Which, of course, you can not tell us ,” flashed Ricky.
    His face lengthened ruefully. He pulled at his tie with an embarrassed frown. “Not yet, anyway. I—” He fumbled with his napkin. “Oh, well, let me see how it comes out first.”
    Ricky opened her eyes to their widest extent and leaned forward, every inch of her expressing awe. “Rupert, don’t tell me that you are an inventor !” she cried.
    “Now I know that we’ll end in the poorhouse,” Val observed.
    Rupert had recovered his composure. “‘I yam what I yam,’” he quoted.
    “Very well. Keep it to yourself then,” pouted Ricky. “We can have secrets too.”
    “I don’t doubt it.” He glanced at Val. “Unfortunately you always tell them. See any more bogies last night, Val? Did a big, black, formless something reach out from under the bed and clutch at you?”
    But his brother refused to be drawn. “No, but when it does I’ll sic it onto you. A big, black, formless something is just what you need. And I’ll—”
    “Am I interrupting?” Charity stood in the door. “Goodness! Haven’t you finished breakfast yet? Do you people know that it is almost ten?”
    “Madam, we have banished time.” Rupert drew out the chair at his left. “Will you favor us with your company?”
    “I thought you were going to be busy today,” said Ricky as she rang for Letty-Lou and a fresh cup of coffee for their guest.
    “So did I,” sighed Charity. “And I should be. I’ve got this order, you know, and now I can’t get any models. Why there should be a sudden dearth of them right now, I can’t imagine. I thought I could use Jeems again, but somehow he isn’t the type.” She raised her cup to her lips.
    “Are