Dinner in the big dining-room was great fun. A large, round table had been prepared for the party, and the smaller, unoccupied tables all about, were also decorated with flowers to give a festive atmosphere.
As there were scores of idle waiters, each of the party could have one, or more, if desired.
Farnsworth seated his guests.
“I’ll sit here,” he announced, “and I’ll ask Mrs. Kenerley to sit at my right. The rest of you may sit where you choose, alternating, of course, the girls and the men. Now, here’s my plan. At every meal, the men sit as we do tonight, and the ladies move one seat to the right. This gives us new companions each time, and prevents monotony.”
“Here’s me,” said Patty, dropping into the chair at Bill’s left hand, while Channing sat the other side of Patty. Laughingly, they all found places, and dinner was served.
It was an unusual experience. The hotel dining-room was ornate in design and appointments, and its green and gold colouring and soft glow of silk-shaded lights made a charming setting for the merry party round the big table. The other tables, and there were many of them, looked as if they might be occupied by the ghosts of the departed guests.
“It’s like being castaways on a beautiful and very comfortable desert island,” said Patty, as she looked appreciatively at a huge tray of hors d’œuvre offered her by a smiling waiter. “I do love these pickly-wickly things, and never before have I felt that I might take my time in choosing. But, here at——what’s the name of the hotel, Bill?”
“Never mind the name on its letter-heads,” he returned, “we’ll call it Freedom Castle. Everybody is to follow his or her own sweet will,—or somebody else’s if that seems pleasanter.”
“Who has the pleasantest will?” asked Patty, looking around; “I want to follow it.”
“I have,” said Chick, promptly. “My will is something fierce in the way of pleasantness. I daresay every one here will fall all over themselves in their haste to follow it. Ha, do I hear a familiar strain? I do!”