on the first evening possible (Sunday excepted) at 5.30 precisely till 7 prompt.
Menu.
Sandwiches, Sausage Rolls,
Hot Cookies, Cream Dittos,
Macaroons, Cheesecakes,
Currant Cakes, Jam Puffs,
Imperial (nee German) Biscuits,
And
NO BREAD.
God Save the King!
P.S.—Miss C. B. will expect
Pte. W. T. to Ask a Blessing.
It took time and patience on Macgregor's part to persuade his friend that the missive was not a 'cod'; but once convinced of its genuineness, Willie took the business seriously. He swore, however, to have nothing to do with the matter of the P.S. Nevertheless, in moments of solitude, his lips might have been observed to move diligently, and it is possible that he was mentally rehearsing 'For what we are about to receive, etc.' His written acceptance was a model in its way.
'Coming with thanks,—Yours truly, W. THOMSON.'
By the same post he wrote to his aunt—for cash; but her reply consisting of a tract headed with a picture of a young man in the remnants of a bath towel dining in a pig-sty, he was compelled once more to appeal to Macgregor, who fortunately happened to be fairly flush. He expended the borrowed shilling on a cane and a packet of Breath Perfumers for himself, and for Christina a box of toffee which, being anhungered while on sentry duty the same night, he speedily devoured with more relish than regret.
Unless we reckon evenings spent in Macgregor's home in the small boy period, and a funeral or two, Willie's experience of tea parties was nil. Despite his frequently expressed contempt for such 'footerin' affairs,' he was secretly flattered by Christina's invitation. At the same time, he suffered considerable anguish of mind on account of his ignorance of the 'fancy behaviour' which he deemed indispensable in the presence of a hostess whom he considered 'awfu' genteel.' With reluctance, but in sheer desperation, he applied to his seldom-failing friend.
'What the blazes,' he began with affected unconcern, 'dae ye dae at a tea pairty?'
'Eat an' jaw,' came the succinct reply.