Doctor Raymond bowed his acknowledgments, while Bee sat, so proud and happy that she was almost overcome.
"I confess that I was a little dubious when I first saw that menu card," confessed her father with a smile as he finished his coffee.
"Do you mean that you did not aid her? That she did in truth plan this alone?" exclaimed the shy gentleman in surprise. "Where then did she get her knowledge of the subject?"
"Beatrice studied it while I was away," explained Doctor Raymond. "It was done in order to help me in my work, I believe; and she has certainly proved to be a very enthusiastic assistant. She is helping me in my cataloguing this summer. Shall we go to the piazza, gentlemen? There is just time for a cigar before your train."
They passed from the dining room, leaving Bee flushed and happy to report their success to Aunt Fanny. Presently Joel came with the carriage and the Lepidopterists took their departure. Doctor Raymond laid his hand lightly upon his daughter's arm, and turned her toward him.
"Was that entirely your own idea about the dinner?" he asked.
"Yes, father. Did you like it?"
"Very much indeed. It was admirably conceived, and most admirably executed. Did you have no assistance beside Aunt Fanny?"
"Only Tillie," responded Bee. "Aunt Fanny didn't want any 'udder worman traipesing erbout her kitchen.'" Bee laughed a little at the remembrance of the negress' indignation. "She said that she could cook for men even though they were 'satanic;' so I did the planning, and she did the cooking. You must praise her too, father. I never could have done it without her."
"I am glad to hear you say that, Beatrice. I was afraid that you might take all the credit to yourself, but I see that you are willing to share honors."