at-great-grandmother's hand-woven linen feels like oriental silk
across one's knees.

Suddenly I felt very stately and grand-damey and responsible as I looked
at them all across the roses and sparkling glasses. They were lovely
women, all of them, and could such men be found anywhere else in the
world? When I left them all to go out into the big universe to meet the
distinctions that I knew my husband would have for me, would I sit at
salt with people who loved me like this? I saw Pet Buford say something
to Tom about me that I know was lovely from the way he smiled at me; and
the judge's eyes were a full cup for any woman to have offered her. Then
in a flash all the love-fragrance seemed to go to my head--Tom's mixing
of that julep had been skilful, too--and tears rose to my eyes, and
there I might have been crying at my own party if I hadn't felt a strong
warm hand laid on mine as it rested on my lap and Doctor John's kind
voice teased into my ears: "Steady, Mrs. Peaches, there's the loving-cup
to come yet," he whispered. I hated him, but held on to his thumb tight
for half a minute. He didn't know what the matter really was, but he
understood what I needed. He always does.

And after that everybody had a good time, the ginger barber and Judy as
much as anybody, and I could see Aunt Bettie and Mrs. Johnson peeping in
the pantry door, having the time of their lives, too.

That dinner was going like an airship on a high wind, when something
happened to tangle its tail feathers and I can hardly write it for
trembling yet. It was a simple little blue telegram, but it might have
been nitro-glycerin on a tear for the way it acted. It was for me, but
the ginger barber handed it to Tom and he opened it and, looking at me
over his full--after many times emptied--glass, he solemnly read it out
loud. It said:

"Landed this noon. Have I your permission to come to Hillsboro
immediately? Answer. Alfred."

It was dreadful! Nobody said a word and Tom laid the telegram right down
in his plate, where it immediately began to soak up the dressing of his
salad. He was so white and shaky that Pet looked at him in amazement,
and then I am sure she had the good sense to find his hand under the
cloth and hold it, for his shoulder hovered against hers and the color
came back to his face as he smiled down at her. I don't believe I'll
ever get the courage to look at Tom again until he marries Pet, which
he'll do now, I feel sure.