them--so nice and
Thanksgivingy! You've seen the yellow paper cases I've made for the ice
pudding, and the candle shades--the color scheme, you know, is yellow.
I'm going to ornament the dishes for the almonds and raisins and olives
and the candied ginger and other things in the same way. Now, please
don't worry about anything, Kitty! If people only make the arrangements
beforehand, it's no trouble at all. It's all in the way one plans, and
having a system about things."

"I hope so," said Mrs. Fosdyke; for she had her misgivings. In
housekeeping it is only too often that two and two fail to make four.

* * * * *

Kersley Battersby, tall and handsome, coming in gayly at four o'clock on
Thanksgiving afternoon, during a brief interval of the festivities at
his brother's house, stopped short at the sight of Marcia's face.

"What's up?" he asked, reaching out his arms with the unconsciousness of
habit, while Marcia, in her blue gingham gown, as mechanically
retreated. Her tone was tragic.

"Ellen says she won't wait on the table; she says there's work for ten
in the kitchen, and no lady would ask it of her. And I had it all
arranged so beautifully. I don't know what we're to do. Kitty and I have
been busy every minute, and Frank has had to take care of the babies all
day. I didn't mean to make everyone so uncomfortable. He's gone out now,
and she's upstairs with a headache."

"Well, you know you've always got me to fall back on," said Kersley,
firmly. "My word, but the dining-room looks fine, though! I wouldn't
know it for the same place." His gaze rested on the pretty scene with
genuine admiration.

Loving cups in the corner of the room held the tall, yellow
chrysanthemums against the florist's palms; yellow chrysanthemums waved
from the vine-draped mantel and drooped from the prettiest loving cup
of all over the yellow-lined lace centerpiece set on the satin-smooth
"best" tablecloth. The silver was polished to perfection. The new
goblets with their gilt flowers shone like bubbles, and on the sideboard
a golden pumpkin hollowed into a dish among trailing vines was heaped
high with yellow oranges and crimson apples and pearly hothouse grapes.

"Oh, yes, this is all right," sighed Marcia, "and the cooking is, and
Frank has had his dress suit pressed and Kitty's gown is dear. But,
Kersley, the _dinner_!" Her swimming eyes looked at him helplessly as
she pushed back her disheveled hair.