"Why exactly five?" inquired Henry Kemp.
"Well, four is such a silly number; too tidy. And six is too many. That's half a dozen. Five's just nice. I like odd numbers. Three would be too risky in case anything should happen to one of them, and seven——"
"Oh, my God!" from Henry Kemp before he went off into roars again.
"I never heard such talk!" Mrs. Payson almost shouted. "When I was your age I'd have been sent from the room for even listening to such conversation, much less——"
"That's where they were wrong," Charley went on; and she was so much in earnest that one could not call her pert. "Look at Lottie! The maternal type absolutely, or I don't know my philosophy and biology. That's what makes her so corking in the Girls' Court work that she never has time to do—" she stopped at a sudden recollection. "Oh, Lotta, Gussie's having trouble with that sister of hers again."
Gussie was the Kemp's cook, and a pearl. Even Mrs. Payson was hard put to it to find a flaw in her conduct of the household. But she interposed hastily here with her weekly question, Hulda being safely out of the room.
"Is your Gussie out to-night, Belle?"
"She was still there when we left—poor child."
"And why 'poor child!' You treat her like a princess. No washing, and a woman to clean. I don't see what she does all day long. And why can't she go home for her dinner when you're out? You're always getting her extra pork chops and things."
Henry Kemp wagged his head. "She's the best little cook we ever had, Gussie is. Neat and pleasant. Has my breakfast on the table, hot, the minute I sit down. Coffee's always hot. Bacon's always crisp without being burned. Now most girls——"