“I just love fried mush and bean soup.”
“You’re a ducky! And, besides, I’m going to save on the dessert.”
“Aren’t we going to have ice-cream?” Louise’s voice showed anxiety.
“Yes, but we’ll make it ourselves. I found the freezer out in the back shed under all those old carpets yesterday. And we’ll have pale-green peppermint water-ice. It’s beautiful, and costs hardly anything. You just make lemonade and put in a few drops of peppermint and a drop or two of confectioner’s green coloring; and it is the prettiest thing you ever laid eyes on, looks like a dream and tastes—wonderful!”
“Oh!” said Louise, her eyes shining.
“We’ll have angel cake for the birthday cake, I think,” went on the sister, “with white icing and little pink candles. Eggs are not expensive now, and anyway I found a recipe that says measure the whites, and such big eggs as we get take only nine to a cup. How will that be, angel cake and green water-ice for dessert?”
Louise sat down, and folded her hands, her big, expressive eyes growing wide and serious.
“It’s going to be a success!” she said solemnly with a grown-up air. “I was afraid she wouldn’t be—well—impressed but she will. It’s regular! You wanted her to be impressed, too; didn’t you, Nellie?”
Cornelia couldn’t help laughing at the solemn question, but she sobered instantly.
“Yes, dear, I guess I did. I wanted her to have respect for Carey’s family and to know that, however foolish he may be, there is something, as you say, ‘regular’ behind him. Because there is, you know, Louie. Father and mother are ‘regular’.”