"Oh, I won't talk over much," she said, glancing with her flashing eyes round at the entire party. "But you see I am quite a stranger; and, oh my! the place does seem lonely. You are all so stiff, I cannot quite understand it. Is it the English fashion, please, Mr. Denvers?"
"Well, you see," answered Mrs. Denvers from the other end of the table, "we don't know you yet."
"But I am sure all the same we shall be very good friends," said Mr.
Denvers. "May I give you a glass of wine?"
"Wine! Bless you, I'm a teetotaller," said Kitty. "Why, it isn't habits of intoxication you'll be putting into me. I never take anything but water, or milk when I can get it; and it isn't Miss Malone you're going to call me is it, for if it is I tell you frankly that I'll die entirely. I must be Kitty from this moment, or Kitty Malone, or anything of that sort, but Kitty something it must be. Now, is it settled fair and square, Kitty shall I be? Here's my hand on my heart; I'll die if I'm called Miss Malone!"
Fred burst into roars of laughter.
"I say," he cried, "what an extraordinary girl you are!"
"Well, and so are you an extraordinary boy," said Kitty. "Oh, dear me, I am hungry! Do you mind handing me over the potatoes? Why, you don't mean to say you peel 'em. I never heard of such a thing! Why don't you have them in their jackets?"
"Potatoes are generally mashed or peeled or something of that sort in
England," said Mr. Denvers. "I see, Kitty—" he added.
"Ah! bless you now for calling me that! What is it you want to say, dear
Mr. Denvers?"
"I see we shall have a good deal to teach you," he said, and then he too burst into a fit of laughter, and so the merry, somewhat rollicking meal proceeded.