Elizabeth nodded wisely. “I think I am happier than Bess or Corinne,” she said thoughtfully, “and yet I haven’t half so much.”
“We are philosophers, Elfie. We belong to that happy class who have riches the world wots not of. But, I say, speaking of things to eat, didn’t you say something about waffles?”
“I said that I thought we might be going to have them. Is it time? It can’t be.”
Mr. Kemp consulted his watch. “It is so near that there isn’t any fun in it. I don’t want to miss anything that is coming to me. Waffles and honey, is it?”
“Oh yes, honey, of course, and maybe chicken. I am not sure.”
“Yum-yum!” exclaimed her friend. “We cannot waste another moment. Come along, Elfie.”
They went forth and reached the house just as Electra was bringing in the first plate of waffles. “I was a wee, wee bit late,” acknowledged Elizabeth, when all had welcomed back Mr. Kemp, “but if you knew, mother, what a joyous thing has happened you would not be grudging of the extra minutes.”
“Hush, hush!” warned Mr. Kemp; “wait till after supper, please, Elfie. You will spoil my appetite if you bring up embarrassing subjects.”
So Elizabeth did not tell her news till she had her mother all to herself. “Isn’t it the most joyful present that could be?” she said. “Oh mother, I am so happy about it that even if I can’t go to the wedding I shall not mind so much.”
“But you are going,” replied her mother with a smile.