Then fruit salad, immediately claimed by Jean, who knew everything there was to be known of fruit, inside and out, as she explained volubly. Mrs. Leighton's quiet face twitched a trifle and then resolved itself into business lines once more.
Meringues! they must have meringues! Nobody seemed to rise to that. Elma felt it was her turn.
"They look awfully difficult," said she, "but I could try a day or two before. I'll do the meringues."
This cost her a great effort. Mother didn't appear at all encouraging, She snipped her lips together in rather a grim way, and it had the effect of sending a cold streak of fear up and down the back of the meringue volunteer.
"Are they very difficult, mummy?" she asked apologetically.
"Oh, no," said Mrs. Leighton airily. "After mayonnaise, one may do anything."
"I can whip cream--beautifully," explained Elma. "It's that queer crusty thing I'm afraid of."
"I shall be ruined in eggs, I see that very distinctly," said Mrs. Leighton.
After this, there seemed to be no proper opportunity for Betty.
"Couldn't I make a trifle?" she asked modestly. "A trifle at ten." Mrs. Leighton looked her over. "Oh! very well--Betty will make trifle."