CHAPTER VIII.
HILARIOUS HOSPITALITY.
The dinner-table was a surprise even to Mrs. Lennox. Although her own table appointments were fastidiously elegant, they had been supplemented by Jessie's exquisite arrangement of flowers, and by dainty dinner-cards which Millicent had that morning painted in water-color.
The two "white-winged angels," as the immaculate waitresses called each other, stood like marble statues while the guests entered the dining-room.
This brought Lady Pendered's lorgnon again into requisition, and she scanned Betty and Jessie until, as they afterward declared, they felt like waxworks at the Eden Musée.
Then the fun began. The two waitresses, intent on doing their best, were so careful and thoughtful that Mrs. Lennox grew more and more dignified and important, as befitted the mistress of such a fine establishment.
Hester and Marjorie sent in most deliciously cooked viands, which were faultlessly served by the expert waitresses.
Lady Pendered expatiated on the extreme delicacy of her daughter's constitution, and averred that the Lady Lucy had absolutely no appetite and ate literally nothing.
This moved the apparently oblivious Betty to offer Lady Lucy braiséd sweetbreads for the second time; and as the fragile one helped herself bountifully, Jessie again urged upon her the stuffed cucumbers, of which she again partook.
"My child, my child, you will be ill," said Lady Pendered in real and well founded alarm.
"I don't care if I am, mama," said the wilful Lady Lucy. "These American things are very good. Why don't we have them at home?"
"Tut, tut, my daughter. All the world knows nothing can excel England's well-spread boards. This America of yours," she continued, turning to Mrs. Lennox, "is a most extraordinary place. I 've been here but a fortnight, and that I spent in New York. Very awful town, is n't it?"
"Do you think so?" said Mrs. Lennox, politely non-committal.
"Indeed, yes. It's so sudden and unexpected. One never knows what will happen next."
"I'm rather fond of New York," said Mrs. Lennox, "but of course its homes are different from English country houses."
"Oh, quite different; and the service is something atrocious. My dear Miranda, you are to be congratulated on your establishment. I have n't seen a decent lady's-maid since I left England until I reached here. That pretty Millicent of yours is a treasure."
Although inwardly convulsed, Betty managed to control her features, and by biting her lips achieved an expression of intense agony, which was, however, better than laughing aloud.
Not so Jessie. The sudden mental picture of Millicent assisting these ladies at their toilet was too much for her, and, with a smothered sound something between a chuckle and a scream, she hurriedly retreated to the kitchen.
"What is it?" cried Hester and Marjorie, seeing the waitress appear unexpectedly and almost in hysterics.
But Jessie had a plucky determination of her own, and, without a word to the bewildered cooks, she pulled herself together, straightened her face to an expression of demure propriety, and was back in the dining-room with her tray inside of two minutes.
But the ordeal was not yet over. When she returned, Lady Pendered was still recounting Millicent's virtues as a lady's-maid.
"Why, really," said the English lady, "she crimped my fringe quite as well as Dawkins does at home. And my clothes were never brushed more neatly."
Millicent brushing clothes! This was almost too much for Betty; but, not daring to glance at Jessie, she went on about her work, endeavoring not to listen to any further disclosures.
"Yes, she's not bad," drawled Lady Lucy. "She darned a bit of a rent in my lace bodice, and smiled amiably when I asked her to do up my fine handkerchiefs."
Millicent as a laundress! The girls nearly broke down at this; but the sound of Mrs. Lennox's clear, even voice restored their calm. Surely if she could preserve her equanimity they ought to do so.
"Millicent is indeed a perfect treasure," the hostess was saying, "but all of my maids are; I could not wish for a better lot."
"Dear Mrs. Lennox," said the languid Lucy, "they do seem superior—all except that frivolous parlor-maid of yours. We would n't like to have such a pretty one at home. I like more serious maids."
A heavy portière at the end of the dining-room wavered convulsively at this, and the too pretty parlor-maid scurried away to a distant room where she could enjoy the joke with some of her fellow-servants.
Now one of Hester's greatest feats was the concoction of Yorkshire pudding. It was the real thing, and was a favorite dish at the club table.
On this occasion, therefore, she fairly outdid herself, and when it accompanied a very Engglish-looking joint to the table, Lady Pendered's delight knew no bounds.
"Yorkshire pudding!" she exclaimed. "Ah, Miranda, you have an English cook."
"Yes," said Mrs. Lennox, repressing a smile, "my head cook is English, and she is especially experienced in making English dishes."
After dinner the ladies went for a stroll on the beach, Millicent and Helen accompanying them, carrying veils, wraps, purses, and other impedimenta.
The rest of the club members were much annoyed that the two girls had to go, for they had planned to have a hilarious dinner of their own after the formal meal was over.
But the two lady's-maids declared they wanted to go, saying it was great fun to attend on the high-bred foreigners.
And the fun was greatly increased when, on reaching the pavilion, they met Uncle Ned and Aunt Molly.
Mrs. Lennox greeted these delightful people, and presented them to her guests.
The lady's-maids sat, demurely unobtrusive, a little apart from the group, but not out of range of Uncle Ned's merry eyes, which twinkled and winked at them whenever opportunity offered.
"Those are uncommonly pretty attendants you have, Mrs. Lennox," said Uncle Ned, in a stage-whisper; but Aunt Molly pulled his coat-tail furtively, and said: "How blue the sea is to-night!"
Meantime Mrs. Lennox's usually quiet and dignified home was the scene of wonderful hilarity.
Jessie and Betty were recounting all the details of the dinner at which they had served so successfully. Marguerite confessed that she and Nan had basely spied from behind the portières. Hester and Marjorie owned up that their iced pudding had failed to freeze properly and that they had sent Helen to the confectioner's for ices.
But all agreed that Mrs. Lennox was a dear, and they were glad of the opportunity to help her in her time of need.
Not realizing how fast time was flying, they gathered in the music-room, and Marguerite played on Mrs. Lennox's grand piano, while all sang their favorite songs lustily and with a will.
"Now," cried Marguerite, "in honor of our distinguished English guests and our far more distinguished English cook, we will sing 'Rule Britannia!’"
At it they went, pell-mell, and as the chorus rose high and strong the beach-party returned, and entered the front door, to be greeted by the assurance that Britons never, never, never should be slaves!