perhaps, with such nice curly light hair and blue eyes, and
actually _not married!_ Everything of this age is married in New York.

There was a huge slate in the kitchen with who was to do each course
written up, and it looked so quaint to see in among the serious dishes:

"Cutting Grouts for Soup"--the Countess of Chevenix assisted by Mr.
Buckle.

"Hollandaise Sauce"--The Marchioness of Valmond, Mr. Dick Seton.

And we did do ours badly, I am afraid, because there was a nice low
dresser in a cool gloomy place, and we sat down on that, and my
assistant whispered such lovely things that we forgot, and stirred all
wrong, and the head cook came and scolded us, and said we had spoilt
six eggs, and he should not give us another job; we were only fit to
arrange flowers! So we went to the dining-room, and you can't think of
the fun we had. The Club house is an old place with low rooms and all
cosey. Octavia was in there--the dining-room--helping to lay the cloth,
as she had been rather clumsy, too, and been sent away, and her young
man was as nice as mine; and we four had a superb time, as happy as
children, but Tom was nothing but a drone, for he sat with Kitty in a
window seat behind some curtains, and did not do a thing.

My one said he had never seen such a sweet squirrel as me in my apron,
and I do wish, Mamma, we could have fun like this in England; it is so
original to cook one's dinner! And when it came in, all so well
arranged, each member knowing his appointed duties, it was excellent,
the best one could taste. And everybody was witty and brilliant, and
nobody wanted to interrupt with their story before the other had
finished his. So the time simply flew until it came to dessert, and
there were speeches and toasts, and Octavia and I as the guests of
honour each received a present of a box of bonbons like a huge acorn;
but when we opened them, out of mine there jumped a darling little real
squirrel, quite tame and gentle, and coddled up in my neck and was too
attractive, so I purred to it of course and caressed it, for the rest
of the time; and Mr. Dick said it was not fair to waste all that on a
dumb animal, when there were so many deserving talking squirrels in the
room, and especially himself. I have never had such an amusing evening.
Even the quaint and rather solemn touch pleased me, of the first toast
being said between two freshly lighted candles, to those members who
were dead. The club dates from Colonial