“I offered to make a salad, but Hester said no.”
“We’ll do it, all the same,” said Betty. “Hester may rule Britannia if she wants to, but she can’t rule Hilarity Hall. Come on, Daisy; let’s mutiny. As Peeler-in-Chief I’ll peel some tomatoes, and you stir up a mayonnaise.”
“All right,” said Marguerite; “or rather, as Hester is managing this dinner, she can stir while I dump in the things.”
Marguerite was “great on mayonnaise,” and she broke two eggs, daintily separating the whites and yolks, and put the latter in a soup-plate, stirring them round and round with a silver fork. Then she added oil, drop by drop at first, and then a trifle faster as the dressing began to thicken.
“Here, Hester; it’s all nonsense to say you can’t do this, and you Stoker! Come and stir it while I hunt up some more ingrejents.”
So Hester stirred away briskly but evenly, and added oil, while Marguerite dropped in a tablespoonful of vinegar at intervals. Then she flirted in a dash of Cayenne and sprinkled in a teaspoonful of salt, and then, taking the dish into her own hands, gave it a final whisk or two and declared it completed.
Betty had her tomatoes pared carefully and cored with an apple-corer; then Marguerite arranged them each on a few crisp lettuce-leaves, and filled the centers with her dressing.
And now all was ready, and Betty announced dinner by sounding a bicycle-bell. There was no table-bell to be found, so she blocked her bicycle beside her chair, and explained to Rosie that she must answer the summons.
The girls came flying to their places at table with the alacrity of horses in a well-ordered fire department, and Timmy Loo was so excited that he jumped up into Marjorie’s chair without realizing what he was doing. The Duchess brushed him out with scant ceremony, giving him a cracker to console himself with; but Tim spurned this, and sat up begging for sugar.
Rosie proved to be a deft waitress, and she brought in the soup and placed it before Marguerite, who presided very prettily.