“For heaven's sake! What next?” ejaculated Aunt Nettie.
Mrs. Merriam regarded the nasturtiums for a second longer before she brought her eyes back to the two young faces and broke the tense hush.
“What made you think you wanted to give a dinner-party?”
Oh, rapture! Missy's heart subsided an inch, and she drew a long breath. But she wisely let Tess do the replying.
“Oh, everything in Cherryvale's so passe' and ennuye'. We want to do something novel--something really distingue'--if you know what I mean.”
“I believe I do,” replied Mrs. Merriam gravely.
“Dis-tinn-gwy!” repeated Aunt Nettie. “Well, if you ask me--” But Mrs. Merriam silenced her sister with an unobtrusive gesture. She turned to the two petitioners.
“You think an evening dinner would be--distinngwy?”
“Oh, yes--the way we've planned it out!” affirmed Tess. She, less diffident than Missy, was less reserved in her disclosures. She went on eagerly: “We've got it all planned out. Five courses: oyster cocktails; Waldorf salad; veal loaf, Saratoga chips, devilled eggs, dill pickles, mixed pickles, chow-chow and peach pickles: heavenly hash; and ice-cream with three kinds of cake. And small cups of demitasse, of course.”
“Well,” explained Tess, “you see Beula and Beth and Kitty all want cake for their share--they say their mothers won't be bothered with anything else. We're dividing the menu up between us, you know.”
“I see. And what have you allotted to Missy?”
Missy herself found courage to answer this question; Mother's grave inquiries were bringing her intense relief.
“I thought maybe I could furnish the heavenly hash, Mother.”
“Heavenly hash?” Mother looked perplexed. “What's that?”
“I don't know,” admitted Missy. “But I liked the name--it's so alluring. Beulah suggested it--I guess she knows the recipe.”
“I think it's all kinds of fruit chopped together,” volunteered Tess.
“But aren't you having a great deal of fruit--and pickles?” suggested Mrs. Merriam mildly.
“Oh, well,” explained Tess, rather grandly, “at a swell function you don't have to have many substantial viands, you know.”
“Oh, I nearly forgot--this is to be a swell function.”
“Yes, the real thing,” said Tess proudly. “Potted palms and hand-painted place-cards and orchestra music and candle shades and everything!”