"The spoon drawer. Do I understand that West Point cadets scorn both spoons and forks?"
"I'll teach you something about West Point cadets, before I go," Magnus asserted, stepping towards her.
"How good of you!" said Cherry mockingly, as she slipped round the table. "We're such an ignorant set out here. Magnus, if you would announce a lecture on warped surfaces, I really think it would draw."
What Magnus would have said or done, and how Cherry might have suffered for her temerity, does not appear. Rose came in, bearing a dish of such chicken pot-pie as Magnus declared never grew on a reservation; Violet followed with potatoes and peas and beets—the pretty red, white, and green of the summer garden; and they all sat down to dinner. Then Magnus found that he had neither spoon nor fork.
"Why, Violet, how careless," the mother said, as he made known the fact.
"No, mamma, not I."
"Mrs. Kindred," said Cherry, "Magnus said that West Point cadets could eat with their fingers, so I thought if he enjoyed it, we should like to see how it was done. And it would be one less to wash. And the chickens are cut up," she added gravely. Mrs. Kindred laughed.
"If you two are having a fight, I'll keep out," she said. "Go and help yourself, Magnus." And this he would have done from Cherry's plate, if that young damsel had not laid fast hold of her property; so he took Violet's instead.
But it was a delightful dinner: what though the courses were few and simple, and the trained waiters only the three girls. Then the two elders carried Magnus off to the porch for another talk while the girls cleared the table, and then they also came out, bringing the banjo.
"Now for the summer girl!" they cried, and Magnus left his place for one on the steps at Cherry's feet.