I
felt the same way when I called her attention to the length of the
sorrels' tails. It reminded me that Bee preferred them docked.

"It is your first night with us, so nobody will be here to-night," I
said, rising to the emergency. "But to-morrow we'll have somebody.
I'll ask the Jimmies!"

"Or perhaps you could get Captain Featherstone from Fort Hamilton,"
suggested Bee.

"That is not likely," I said. "He has so many engagements."

"You might try him--by telephone," suggested Bee again.

"Certainly, I'll ask him," I said, cordially.

Aubrey pressed my handkerchief into my hand with a meaning twinkle in
his eyes, and when Bee went in to dress, he said:

"It will be rather nice to see old Featherstone again, don't you think?"

"Yes, if we can get him," I answered.

"You poor little goose," said Aubrey, "don't you know they have it all
arranged, and that Featherstone won't go beyond earshot of the
telephone until he receives your invitation?"

To be sure! I had forgotten Bee's methods.

Of course it turned out as Aubrey predicted--it always does. Captain
Featherstone accepted with suspicious alacrity.

For three days Bee was polite, and I, who am most easily gulled for a
person who looks as intelligent as I do, was pluming myself upon the
fact that our modest mode of living was proving agreeable to Bee's
jaded European palate. I wondered if she had noticed my housekeeping.
She had not expressed herself in any way, but I wondered if she had
observed how scrupulously neat everything was, that there was no lint
on the floors and what bully things we had to eat.

I was the more eager to know what she thought from the fact that most
of my friends had not hesitated to say that I couldn't keep house, and
the Angel would starve. And once when I wrote home for a recipe for
tomato soup and one of the girls heard of it, she actually sent me this
insulting telegram: "Tomato soup! You! O Lord!"

Which just shows you.

So, on the third day, on seeing Bee cast a critical look around, I
said, unable to wait another minute for the praises I was sure would
come:

"Well, what do you think of us anyway?"

Then I leaned back with the thought in my mind, "Now here is where, as
Jimmie would say, I get a bunch of hot air."

Bee wheeled around on me eagerly, and I smiled in anticipation.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Of course I do!" I cried, impatiently.

"You asked me, you know," she said, warningly.