My sister meditated, and I added:
“If you would just snub her once, in your most ladylike way, it would settle her. As for me, I am satisfied to think we are paying much less, and we are twice as comfortable as we were at the hotel; and we get such good things to eat that our skeletons are filling out, and once more our clothes fit.”
“That is so,” said she, letting her thoughts wander to the number of hooks in her closet. “We do have more room, and I think our drawing-room with its palms and flowers will look lovely to-morrow.”
“Do you think it was wise,” she added, “to ask all those men to come at once?”
“Oh yes; let them all come together, then we can weed them out afterwards. You never can have too many men.”
“I am glad you have asked in a few women.”
“Why?” I demanded. “Are you insinuating that we are not equal to a handful of Englishmen? Recall the Boston tea-party. We will give them the first strawberries of the season, and plenty of tea. Feed them; that’s the main thing,” I said, firmly, taking up my pen and looking steadily at her.
“I’ll go,” she said, hastily. “Do you have to go to the bank to-day? You know to-morrow we must pay our weekly bill.”
“It won’t be much,” I said, cheerfully; “I am sure I have enough.”
The next day the bill came. Our landlady sent it up on the breakfast-tray. I opened it, then shrieked for my sister. It covered four pages of note-paper.