“Then what is it?” laughed Elizabeth. But a glance at his face showed her that something else must be done, and she put her hand lightly on his arm.
“Let’s keep it a secret,” she said—“_do_.”—Oh, Elizabeth!
Then Norah clattered up with the little cart, and Elizabeth got in.
IT was the day of the luncheon-party at the Vicarage, and the Vicar sat in solemn conclave with his lady-cook-housekeeper.
“Then you really think boilers?” he said anxiously.
“I ordered boilers, so they’ll have to be,” said Mrs. Jebb, with the air of a person rather at the end of her tether. “We agreed that with white sauce and grated egg and lemon slices you could make boiled fowls look more dressy than plain roast.”
“Of course, of course,” said Andy hastily, wishing to keep her in a good temper until the great day was over. “Stupid of me to have forgotten that. And the asparagus”—he hardly dared it, but he did—“I suppose you’re quite accustomed to cooking asparagus?”
“Any one can cook asparagus,” said Mrs. Jebb coldly. “I haven’t cooked it, because we never had it when I was a girl at home, and Mr. Jebb didn’t like it. But it’s boiled with plain water.”
“_And_ melted butter served with it,” suggested Andy.
“I think we’d better not have any waiting,” continued Andy. “Sophy” (Sophy was the small maid) “will hardly be up to it, eh? And is there anything else that you can think of, Mrs. Jebb? Being a lady yourself, you will understand——”
Mrs. Jebb thawed a little and considered dramatically, with her finger to her brow.
“Let’s see. What did we do when we entertained at ‘The Laurels’ in Mr. Jebb’s lifetime? Scented soap. Clean towels. Black and white pins. Ah, there’s one thing I have forgotten—if you really wish to provide all—but in a bachelor’s household they would never——” She paused tantalisingly.
“What is it?” demanded Andy. “Anything I can——”
“Well, perhaps it’s hardly a subject to mention to an unmarried gentleman,” hesitated Mrs. Jebb; “but if you want everything to be complete you ought to provide face powder. It’s always done. Ladies come in warm, or flustered, or shiny about the nose, and a dash of powder means everything to them.”
“But there’s none to be bought in Gaythorpe,” said Andy, cast down at the omission.