"What! EVERY time you've proposed?" said Patty, roguishly.
"No, because I've never proposed before. Don't you think I do it well for a beginner?"
"Not very."
"Not very! You little scamp, what do you know about it? Have you had a wide experience in proposals?"
"I shouldn't tell you if I had. One of flour, two of butter, three—"
"Three blithering wheelbarrows! Apple Blossom, have you any idea how I love you?"
"Don't put me out, Bill. One of flour, two of butter, three eggs—"
"Now, isn't she the limit?" mused Bill, apparently addressing the crabs. "I express my devotion in terms of endearment, and she babbles like a parrot of flour and butter!"
"If I don't, you'll have no croquettes," and Patty moulded the mixture into oval balls, and arranged them in a frying sieve.
As the time grew shorter they worked away in earnest, and soon after one o'clock everything was ready. The finishing touches and the serving of the hot dishes were left to the butler and waitress, who were none too willing to do anything outside their own restricted sphere, but whom Patty cajoled by smiles, till they were her abject slaves.