'No, indeed,' she said, and made a little face; 'I don't think I should like cake that came out of anybody's hat!'
'It was very decent cake,' he said; 'I got a lot of it. I was afraid it might spoil my appetite for supper—but it hasn't.'
'What a very greedy boy you are, Bertie,' she remarked; 'I suppose you could eat anything?'
'At home I think I could, pretty nearly,' he said, with a proud confidence, 'but not at old Tokoe's, I can't. Tokoe's is where I go to school, you know. I can't stand the resurrection-pie on Saturdays—all the week they save up the bones and rags and things, and when it comes up——'
'I don't want to hear,' she interrupted; 'you talk about nothing but horrid things to eat, and it isn't a bit interesting.'
Bertie allowed himself a brief interval for refreshment unalloyed by conversation, after which he began again: 'Mabel, if they have dancing after supper, dance with me.'
'Are you sure you know how to dance?' she inquired rather fastidiously.
'Oh, I can get through all right,' he replied. 'I've learnt. It's not harder than drilling. I can dance the Highland Schottische and the Swedish dance, any-way.'
'Any one can dance those. I don't call that dancing,' she said.
'Well, but try me once, Mabel; say you will,' said he.