THE SLEEKS IN ARCADIA.
There had been a succession of battles royal between the Misses Sleek and their papa over the haymaking party. Mr. Sleek had drawn up a long list of guests, among whom prominently figured the names of most of the gilded youth of the Stock Exchange. Sleek was determined at all hazards to make what he called a "splash." He felt that in getting old Warrender and his daughter to The Park, he was in reality receiving his passport into county society. It had been gall and wormwood to the head of the firm of Sleek and Dabbler to find that in King's Warren village, except among the tradesmen whom he patronized, for no fault of his own, he had remained a social pariah. In vain had he subscribed liberally to the local charities, the coal club, and the various other institutions of the place. He was annoyed that, when walking with young farmer Wurzel, village heads would be uncovered in every direction; and yet when he, Sleek, the head of a well-known firm, was alone, a surly nod or a fraternal smile was the only recognition accorded to him. He was naturally anxious, then, that his haymaking and the subsequent dance should be an important affair. But his daughters had manifested an obstinacy totally unexpected.
The family council of three had met in solemn conclave. Miss Sleek had read to her father a long list of King's Warren people, and he had cheerfully nodded his approval at each name submitted for his approbation.
"Can't be better, can't be better, my dear," smiled the father. "I don't think you've left a soul out. But we mustn't forget my friends. I tell you what it is, girls, when I do a thing I like to do it well, and I mean to do this thing in style. None of your negus and stale sponge cakes for me. I shall give 'em real turtle from Birch's, and as for fizz, they shall swim in it if they like. Dry Monopole for the men, and Duc de Montebello for the ladies; women hate dry champagne, they like it sweet, for it fizzes longer, and they don't care a hang for the head in the morning. Montebello will suit the vicar's wife and the married ladies down to the boots. There's nothing like fizz, it makes 'em all so friendly; and as for music, I've secured Toot and Kinney. Kinney himself will come and conduct, and do the solos on the cornet. I'm going to arrange for a special, girls, to bring the whole party down and take 'em back to town at six a.m."
His eldest daughter suddenly put a stop to his enthusiasm by asking him rather coldly, "who the train was to bring down."
"Why, my friends, of course; who else?"
"But, dear papa, we don't know your friends, at least, many of them; and I'm afraid, and so is Connie," she added with a sickly smile, "that perhaps they wouldn't amalgamate."
Much as King Lear looked when he first detected the real natures of Regan and Goneril, so did Mr. Sleek gaze in horror on his two rebellious daughters.
"Bosh!" he exclaimed with indignation. "Do you mean to tell me that after romping together all the afternoon in the hay, and getting their skins full of my champagne, they won't amalgamate, as you call it? Why, they'll be calling each other by their Christian names before supper time."