But alas! Even Kate could not hide the eminent unsuitability of the feast itself to its elegant surroundings. True, the bread and butter was of wafer-like thinness, there were hot cakes of the crispest, finest variety, and the plum-cake which was Martha's welcome to the bride was of the richest, most tempting description.
But side by side with those delicacies was a dish of shrimps, in all their native vulgarity; and further down, almost hidden in fact by the flowery centrepiece, was a glass dish containing a velvety white cream whose real place should have been on the dinner-table.
For a moment Toni's heart misgave her as she saw these things in their blatancy; and she wished she had stuck to the usual tiny sandwiches which Martha sent up when she and Owen were alone. Then she remembered, gratefully, that Fanny was hungry, and common sense whispered that to a girl who had lunched lightly a sandwich was unsatisfying fare.
As for Fanny, her spirits, momentarily damped by the sight of the silver tray, rose with a bound as she surveyed the table.
"I say, Toni, what a spread! Shrimps, I declare! Well, I thought you'd have been much too smart nowadays to think of them!"
"Nonsense!" Toni's depression vanished, and she laughed gaily. "I always did like shrimps—and why shouldn't I have them if I want them? Come and sit down, Fan—here, by me—and do make a good tea!"
Fanny needed no second bidding. Taking the seat indicated she leaned forward to examine the silver in the most open fashion.
"I say, you've got some tiptop things and no mistake! That cloth is simply lovely—just look at the lace, as fine as fine!"
"It belonged to Owen's mother," said Toni, passing her a cup of tea. "There are lots of things like that in the house. Now, Fanny, help yourself—and pass the dish!"
Thus invited, Fanny did help herself; and presently both girls were happily eating and talking, Fanny asking innumerable questions and Toni satisfying her curiosity without entering into details.