"I think the most fun of the whole trip is eating in restaurants," said Kitty. "I just love to look around, and see different tables and different people at them."
"It is fun," agreed King; "but I wouldn't want to live in a hotel all the time. I think it's more fun to be at home."
"So do I," said Marjorie. "Somehow, in a hotel, you feel sort of stiff and queer, and you never do at home."
"You needn't feel stiff and queer, Marjorie," said her father; "but of course there is a certain conventional restraint about a public dining-room that isn't necessary at home. I want you children to become accustomed to restaurants, and learn how to act polite and reserved, without being what Marjorie calls stiff and queer."
"Don't we act right, Father?" inquired Kitty, anxiously.
"Yes, you do very nicely, indeed. Your table manners are all right, and the less you think about the subject the better. This trip will give you a certain amount of experience, and anyway you have all your life to learn in. But I will ask you, children, to be on your good behavior at Grandma Maynard's. She is more difficult to please than Grandma Sherwood, but I want her to think my children are the best and the best-behaved in the whole world."
"How long shall we stay there, Father?" asked Marjorie.
"About three days. I'm sure you can exist that long without falling in the water or cutting up any pranks in the house."
"Is there any water to fall in?" asked King.
"No, there isn't. I used that as a figure of speech. But I'm sure if you try to be quiet and well-behaved children you can easily succeed."