Dora said she thought it would be splendid.
‘And we could have out the best china,’ she said, ‘and decorate the table with flowers. We could have tea in the garden. We’ve never had a party since we’ve been here.’
‘I warn you that your guests may be boresome; however, have it your own way,’ Albert’s uncle said; and he went off to write the invitation to tea to the Maidstone Antiquities. I know that is the wrong word but somehow we all used it whenever we spoke of them, which was often.
In a day or two Albert’s uncle came in to tea with a lightly-clouded brow.
‘You’ve let me in for a nice thing,’ he said. ‘I asked the Antiquities to tea, and I asked casually how many we might expect. I thought we might need at least the full dozen of the best teacups. Now the secretary writes accepting my kind invitation—’
‘Oh, good!’ we cried. ‘And how many are coming?’ ‘Oh, only about sixty,’ was the groaning rejoinder. ‘Perhaps more, should the weather be exceptionally favourable.’
Though stunned at first, we presently decided that we were pleased.
We had never, never given such a big party.
The girls were allowed to help in the kitchen, where Mrs Pettigrew made cakes all day long without stopping. They did not let us boys be there, though I cannot see any harm in putting your finger in a cake before it is baked, and then licking your finger, if you are careful to put a different finger in the cake next time. Cake before it is baked is delicious—like a sort of cream.
Albert’s uncle said he was the prey of despair. He drove in to Maidstone one day. When we asked him where he was going, he said—