“Don’t let it,” counselled Billy, tossing a lock of hair out of his eyes and going on with the packing. “I’m having a good time. To tell you the truth, I always have a good time over here. I rather feel as if I belonged to the family—and that’s a nice feel to have. You’re a good little chum, Winnie.... If you don’t let me pack all the freezers and things I want to I’ll just have to go back to merely being let in once in awhile, like company.”
“I feel as if you belonged to the family, too, Billy,” said Winona sincerely, “and if your packing freezers is any sign you do, go right on, please.”
“I am,” Billy assured her with his usual placidity.
“The lard’s hot, Win! Come see if they’ll frit!” called Louise from within; and Winona dashed off with her batter. But it was nice to have Billy feel that way about things. He was certainly the nicest boy she knew....
They began together, she and Louise, to drop the yellow batter into the fat, while Clay and the boys turned the freezer by turns. Louise and Winona had become so excited about their dinner by this time that a mere fritter-sauce was nothing. They made one, it seemed to them afterwards, looking back, without knowing how they did it, and it was very good at that.
“Oysters, soup, fish, salad,” muttered Winona for the twentieth time. “I believe everything’s ready but the cream, and that must be almost finished. Boys!” she called out through the back door, “will you please go and deck yourselves for the feast? Wear your tuxedos, please. We’re going to keep up the Merriam reputation for hospitality, or die in the attempt!”
“All right—just wait till we pack it,” Tom called back.
But she saw that they had separated in quest of their evening clothes before she left. Tom had just acquired his first set, and wasn’t particularly fond of them. But he put them on meekly, just the same.
“We’d better dress, too,” said Louise. “I’ll run over home and slip some things in a suitcase, and be right back again.”