Paste Jewels Part 6

"There's Bradley, for instance. He'd die of starvation before we got to the second course in a dinner of that kind, and if there is any one thing that can cast a gloom over a dinner, it is to have one of the guests die of starvation right in the middle of it."

"Mr. Bradley would never do so ungentlemanly a thing," said Bessie, laughing heartily. "He is too considerate a man for that; he'd starve in silence and without ostentation."

"Why this sudden access of confidence in Bradley?" queried Thaddeus.

"I thought you didn't like him?"

"Neither I did, until that Sunday he spent with us," Bessie answered. "I've admired him intensely ever since. Don't you remember, we had lemon pie for dinner--one I made myself?"

"Yes, I remember," said Thaddeus; "but I fail to see the connection between lemon pie and Bradley. Bradley is not sour or crusty."

"You wouldn't have failed to see if you'd watched Mr. Bradley at dinner," retorted Bessie. "He ate two pieces of it."

"And just because a man eats two pieces of lemon pie prepared by your own fair hands you whirl about, and, from utterly disliking him, call him, upon the whole, one of the most admirable products of the human race?" said Thaddeus.

"Not at all," Bessie replied, with a broad smile; "but I did admire the spirit and politeness of the man. On our way home from church in the morning we were talking about the good times children have on their little picnics, and Mr. Bradley said he never enjoyed a picnic in his life, because every one he had ever gone to was ruined by the baleful influence of lemon pie."

Thaddeus laughed. "Then he didn't like lemon pie?" he asked.

"No, he hated it," said Bessie, joining in the laugh. "He added that the original receipt for it came out of Pandora's box."

"Poor Bradley!" cried Thaddeus, throwing his head back in a paroxysm of mirth. "Hated pie--declared his feelings--and then to be confronted by it at dinner."

"He behaved n.o.bly," said Bessie. "Ate his first piece like a man, and then called for a second, like a hero, when you remarked that it was of my make."

"You ought to have told him it wasn't necessary, Bess," said Thaddeus.

"I felt that way myself at first," Bessie explained; "but then I thought I wouldn't let him know I remembered what he had said."

"I fancy that was better," said Thaddeus. "But about that dinner.

What do you say to our inviting the Bradleys, Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, the Robinsons, and the Twinings?"

"How many does that make? Eight besides ourselves?" asked Bessie, counting upon her fingers.

"Yes--ten altogether," said Thaddeus.

"It can't be done, dear," said Bessie. "We have only eight fruit plates."

"Can't you and I go without fruit?" Thaddeus asked.

"Not very well," laughed Bessie. "It would never do."

"They might think the fruit was poisoned if we did, eh?" suggested Thaddeus.

"Besides, Mary never could serve dinner for ten; eight is her number. Last time we had ten people, don't you remember, she dropped a tray full of dishes, and poured the claret into the champagne gla.s.ses?"

"Oh, yes, so she did," said Thaddeus. "That's how we came to have only eight fruit plates. I remember. I don't think it was the number of people at the table, though. It was Twining caused the trouble, he had just made the pleasant remark that he wouldn't have an Irish servant in his house, when Mary fired the salute."

"Then that settles it," said Bessie. "We'll cut the Twinings out, and ask the others. I don't care much for Mrs. Twining, anyhow; she's nothing but clothes and fidgets."

"And Twining doesn't do much but ask you what you think of certain things, and then tell you you are all wrong when he finds out," said Thaddeus. "Yes, it's just as well to cut them off this time. We'll make it for eight, and have it a week from Thursday night."

"That's Mary's night off," said Bessie.

"Then how about having it Friday?"

"That's Maggie's night off, and there won't be anybody to mind the baby."

"Humph!" said Thaddeus. "I wish there were a baby safe-deposit company somewhere. Can't your mother come over and look after him?"

"No," said Bessie, "she can't. The child always develops something every time mother comes. Not, of course, that I believe she gives it to him, but she looks for things, don't you know."

"Yes," said Thaddeus, "I know. Then make it Wednesday. That's my busy day down-town, and I shan't be able to get home much before half-past six, but if dinner is at seven, there will be time enough for me to dress."

"Very well," said Bessie. "I will write the invitations to-morrow, and, meanwhile, you and I can get up the menu."

"Oysters to begin with, of course," said Thaddeus.

"I suppose so," said Bessie, "though, you remember, the last time we had oysters you had to open them, because the man from the market didn't get here until half-past seven."

"And Ellen had never opened any except with a tack-hammer," said Thaddeus. "Yes, I remember. But lightning never strikes twice in the same place. Put down the oysters. Then we'll have some kind of a puree--celery puree, eh?"

"That will be very good if Ellen can be induced to keep it thick."

"Perhaps we'd better tell her we want a celery consomme," suggested Thaddeus. "Then it will be sure to be as thick as a dictionary."

"I guess it will be all right," said Bessie. "What kind of fish?"

"Bradley likes salmon; Robinson likes sole; Phillips likes whitebait, and so do I."

"We'll have whitebait," said Bessie, simply. "Then a saddle of mutton?"

"Yes, and an entree of some kind, and next individual ruddy ducks."

"No Roman punch?"

"We can get along without that, I think," said Thaddeus. "We want to keep this dinner down to Mary's comprehension, and I'm afraid she wouldn't know what to make of an ice in the middle of the dinner.

The chances are she'd want to serve it hot."

"All right, Teddy. What next?"

"I would suggest a lemon pie for Bradley," smiled Thaddeus.

"What do you say to Ellen's making one of her tipsy-cakes?"

suggested Bessie.

"Just the thing," said Thaddeus, smacking his lips with enthusiasm.

"I could eat a million of 'em. Then we can finish up with coffee and fruit."

So it was settled. The invitations were sent out, and Bessie devoted her energies for the next ten days to making ready.