It was a simple breakfast but everything was good both to eat and to look at. It began with fruit, of which there were several kinds, and continued with a well-cooked cereal.
“None of your five minute cereals for me,” smiled Mrs. Smith. “I always have even the short-time ones cooked at least twice as long as they are reputed to need. It brings out their flavor better.”
After the cereal with its rich cream came chops for the meat eaters and individual omelettes soufflés, as light as a feather, for the egg eaters. The coffee was clear and turned to a warm gold when the cream worked its magic upon it. Broiled fresh mushrooms with bacon brought it all to an end.
“Just the kind of muffins I like best,” Ethel Brown said in a undertone to Dorothy.
“Potatoes from our own farm,” announced the hostess.
“All praise to Dorothy, the farmer,” hailed Mr. Emerson.
“Mostly to Roger,” protested Dorothy. “He managed the vegetable end of our planting.”
Helen tapped on her glass.
“This will be the last meeting of all the members of the U. S. C.,” she said, “because Ethel Blue and the boys are going away.”
A shade fell over the faces of all those around the table.