“Oh, yes, so she did,” said Thaddeus. “That’s how we came to have only eight fruit plates. I remember. I don’t think it was the number of people at the table, though. It was Twining caused the trouble, he had just made the pleasant remark that he wouldn’t have an Irish servant in his house, when Mary fired the salute.”
“Then that settles it,” said Bessie. “We’ll cut the Twinings out, and ask the others. I don’t care much for Mrs. Twining, anyhow; she’s nothing but clothes and fidgets.”
“And Twining doesn’t do much but ask you what you think of certain things, and then tell you you are all wrong when he finds out,” said Thaddeus. “Yes, it’s just as well to cut them off this time. We’ll make it for eight, and have it a week from Thursday night.”
“That’s Mary’s night off,” said Bessie.
“Then how about having it Friday?”
“That’s Maggie’s night off, and there won’t be anybody to mind the baby.”
“Humph!” said Thaddeus. “I wish there were a baby safe-deposit company somewhere. Can’t your mother come over and look after him?”
“No,” said Bessie, “she can’t. The child always develops something every time mother comes. Not, of course, that I believe she gives it to him, but she looks for things, don’t you know.”
“Yes,” said Thaddeus, “I know. Then make it Wednesday. That’s my busy day down-town, and I shan’t be able to get home much before half-past six, but if dinner is at seven, there will be time enough for me to dress.”
“Very well,” said Bessie. “I will write the invitations to-morrow, and, meanwhile, you and I can get up the menu.”