sky
and innocent for worlds with his little baked tail curled up in the air,
arrived from Mrs. Caruthers Cain, I went out into the garden and laughed
at the idea of having spent money for lobsters, to be shipped alive and
to be served broiled in their own shells.

When I got back in the kitchen things were well under way, everything
smelling grand, and Aunt Bettie in full swing matching up my dinner
guests.

"Nobody in this town could suit me better than Pet Buford for a
daughter-in-law and I believe I'll have all the east rooms done over in
blue chintz for her. I think that would be the best thing to set off her
blue eyes and corn silk hair," she was saying as she cut orange peel
into strips.

"You've planned the refurnishing of that east wing to suit the style of
nearly every girl in Hillsboro since Tom put on long trousers, Bettie
Pollard, and they are just as they have been for fifteen years since you
did over the whole house," said Mrs. Johnson as she poured a wine-glass
half full from one bottle and added a tablespoonful from another.

"Well, I think he is really interested now from the way he danced most
of his time with her down at the hotel the other night, and I have hopes
I never had before. Now, Molly, do put him between you and her, sort of
cornered, so he can't even _see_ Ruth Chester. She is too old for
him." And Tom's mother looked at me over the orange peel as to a
confederate.

"Humph, I'd like to see you or Molly or any woman 'corner' Tom Pollard,"
said Mrs. Johnson with a wry smile as she tasted the concoction in the
wine-glass.

"I have to put him at the end of the table because he is my kinsman and
the only host I've got at present, Aunt Bettie," I said regretfully. I
always take every chance to rub in Tom's and my relationship on Aunt
Bettie, so she won't notice our flirtation.

"I'd put John Moore at the head of the table if I were you, Molly
Carter, because he's about the only man you've invited that has got any
sense left since you and that Chester girl took to visiting Hillsboro.
He's a host of steadiness in himself and the way he ignores all you
women, who would run after him if he would let you, shows what he is. He
has my full confidence," and as she delivered herself of this judgment
of Doctor John, Mrs. Johnson drove in all the corks tight and began to
pound spice.

"He's not out of the widower-woods yet, Caroline," said Aunt Bettie with
her most speculative smile. "I have abou