"Mr. Driggs and myself drove over to call last week, but your waiter said you weren't at home, although Mr. Driggs thought he saw you on the side porch," she said to Aunt Sarah. And her husband added: "Say, that waiter of yours certainly is a sobersides, ain't he? Couldn't get him to crack a smile. How about some punch for you ladies? Good for what ails you!"
The tea was being a success. By the relief she felt, Kate knew how she had dreaded it, how frightened she had been for fear people no longer liked them because Joe had borrowed from so many of them. But they had all come, they were all friendly, the tea was a success!
But it wasn't until that evening, after supper, that the real feeling of the party came to her, back in her old clothes, going through the small gate by the hydrant with a plate of cakes for Miss Smith. The dew-cooled air, the stars, insects tremulously calling, Miss Smith so appreciative, coming to the screen door, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Why didn't you come this afternoon, you bad thing? You promised."
"Oh, Mrs. Green, I said I'd try—but Matty had the earache"
"Now you always have some excuse, and I'm very mad at you, but I suppose I'll have to forgive you this time."
"Oh, my! what wonderful little cakes!"
