Bob waited for a moment to see the dimple reappear in her cheek, and the twinkle in her eyes, and then he, too, sighed—a sigh of relief.
"Bless your heart, Bettina, don't you sigh like that again! You almost had me thinking that you were in earnest. Now you took the very nicest way to remind me of that anniversary. Instead of feeling neglected like some women——"
"What do you know about 'some women,' Bob?"
"Only what I've read in books——"
"Well, the books don't know. But I give you fair warning, Bob, that on the next anniversary you fail to remember, I'll feed you bread and milk, and not chicken."
"This is a fine dessert," said Bob meekly and tactfully.
"Do you like it? I enjoy making it, it looks so light and fluffy. I pile it very lightly into the glass dish to make it that way. I prefer gelatin in glass dishes, don't you, Bob?"
"You bet I do! Everything about this anniversary dinner is fine except for my own stupidity!"
That night Bettina served: