The Story Book Girls Part 12

Oh! They had soon the windows open. Harry insisted he could make mayonnaise. "You don't meet American men for nothing, let me tell you,"

he said. It was fun to see him supplied with plate, fork and bottles.

He looked at Mabel's attempt at dressing.

"Good gracious!" he said, "where's the egg?"

Mabel turned rather faint. "I put in the white," said she.

Dr. Harry roared. Then he explained carefully and kindly.

"Mayonnaise is an interesting affair--apart from the joys of eating it.

A chemical action takes place between the yoke of an egg and the oil and vinegar. You could hardly expect the white to play up."

"It was Cook," exclaimed Mabel. "She said something about yokes for a custard and whites for--for----"

"Meringues, you donkey," said Jean.

Dr. Harry made the mayonnaise.

Lance Turberville cut the most shameful capers throughout. He decorated Harry with paper ap.r.o.ns and the cap of a chef, and stuck his eyegla.s.s in the wrong eye while Harry worked patiently with a fork in semicircles.

He was sent off with Betty and May, only to reappear later dressed out as a maid-servant. n.o.body except Dr. Harry could take the mayonnaise seriously while Lance was about. At that moment the outdoor bell rang.

With the inspiration born of mischief, and before any one could stop him, Lance rushed off and opened it.

Three ladies stood on the doorstep.

He showed them solemnly into the drawing-room, tripping over his skirt merely a trifle, and nearly giving Bertha, who had primly come to attend to the door, hysterics. He advanced to the smoke-room, where the mayonnaise was nearly completed.

"Mrs. and Miss Dudgeon and Miss Steven are in the drawing-room," said Lance.

CHAPTER VII

Visitors Again

By itself an occurrence like this would have been unnerving enough.

Visitors on the afternoon of a party, and such visitors! But that the Leightons should all be more or less in a pickle in regard to the mayonnaise and Lance's foolery seemed to take things altogether over the barrier of ordinary life, and land everybody in a perfect fizzle. The Dudgeons must have called to see Cuthbert, who had never been down yet on these occasions when Mrs. Leighton and Mabel and Jean with perfect propriety had received them. Mabel had had her innings as the eldest of the house, but had retained an enormous reserve when speaking to Miss Dudgeon. Not so Jean, who believed in getting to know people at once.

Elma and Betty had never ventured near them since that dreadful day when they all did the wrong thing at the wrong moment.

"Anyhow, the drawing-room is a perfect dream with flowers. They can look at that for a bit," said Jean, as they began to remove the regiment of bottles. Dr. Harry's mayonnaise was creamy and perfect, and Mabel was in high fettle correspondingly.

"Do you know," she said, "I don't care tuppence for the Dudgeons just now. Let's go in and give them a decent reception for once." It reflected the feeling of all, that nothing could disturb their gaiety on this day.

Elma was reminded again how right her father was in declaring that once one had an absorbing object in front of one, trifles dwindled down to their proper level. Why should any of them be afraid of the Story Books? Certainly not at all, on a day when they were about to have a ripping party, and the mayonnaise at last had "mayed." Cuthbert gave a big jolly laugh at Mabel's speech.

"Come along, all of you," he said. "What about those oily fingers of yours, Harry? What a jewel of a husband you'll be! You, Lance, get off these togs and behave yourself."

Lance promised abjectly to be an ornament to the household for the rest of the afternoon. Something in his look as he went off reminded Mabel of other promises of Lance.

"Be good," she called out to him.

"Yes, mother," exclaimed Lance, evidently at work already tearing off the skirt, and looking demure and mournful. He seemed very ridiculous still, and they went off merrily to the drawing-room.

"Cuthbert," whispered Elma, "I'm so frightened. Take me in."

"I'm frightened too," whispered Cuthbert.

This made her laugh, so that as she held on to his arm she approached Adelaide Maud in admirable spirits. The party invaded the drawing-room as a flood would invade it--or so it seemed to the Dudgeons, who were talking quietly to Mrs. Leighton. The whole room sprouted Leightons.

Mrs. Dudgeon resorted entirely to her lorgnette, especially when she shook hands with Cuthbert. He stood that ordeal bravely, also the ordeal of the speech that followed.

"You see the two very shy members of the family," he said, bowing gravely and disregarding some sarcastic laughter from the background.

"May I introduce my young sister Elma."

Here was honour for Elma. She shook hands with crimson cheeks. Then came Adelaide Maud. She gave her hand to Cuthbert without a word, but when Elma's turn came she said with rather sweet gravity, "This is the little lady, isn't it, who plays to Miss Grace?"

Elma was thunderstruck; but Cuthbert, the magnificent, seemed very pleased.

"Oh--Miss Grace didn't tell you?" asked Elma.

"No, I heard you one day, and Miss Annie told me it was you."

Adelaide Maud sat down on a low chair, and drew Elma on to the arm.

"What was it you were playing?" she asked.

"One is called 'Anything you like,' and one is 'A little thing of my own,' and the others are just anything," said Elma.

Adelaide Maud laughed.

The room was filled with chattering voices, and Mrs. Dudgeon had claimed Cuthbert, so that it became a very easy thing for them to be confidential without any one's noticing.

"It's quite stup--stup----" Elma stopped.

"Stupid?" asked Adelaide Maud.

"No, stup-endous," said Elma thankfully, "for me to be talking all alone with you." Her fright had run away, as it always did whenever any one looked kindly at her. The sweet eyes of Adelaide Maud disarmed her, and she worshipped on the spot. "I've always been so afraid of you," she said simply. "It ought to be Hermione, but I know it will always be you."

"Who is Hermione?" asked Adelaide Maud.

Elma suddenly woke up.

"Oh, I daren't tell you," said she.

Adelaide Maud looked about her in a constrained way.

"I wish you would play to me, dear," she said.