“My sole test of a social function is whether they feed me standing or sitting,” said Bruce when appealed to. “I can bear anything but that hideous sensation that my plate is dripping.”
“That’s why men hate teas,” observed Helen. “It’s because of the silly refreshments no one wants and everybody must have or the hostess is broken-hearted.”
“That’s probably where jailers got the idea of forcible feeding,” Millicent suggested.
“At the Hendersons’,” Bruce added, “only the drinks are compulsory. Bud’s social symbol is the cocktail-shaker!”
“Everybody drinks too much;” said Helen, “except us. Bruce, help yourself to the sherry.”
“What is a perfect social occasion?” Bruce asked. “My own ideas are a little muddled, but you—Helen?”
“If you must know the truth—there is no such thing! However, you might ask Millicent; she’s an optimist.”
“A perfect time is sitting in the middle of the floor in my room cutting paper dolls,” Millicent answered. “I’m crazy about it. Leila says it’s the best thing I do.”
“Do you ever exhibit your creations?” asked Bruce solicitously.
“We’ve got her in a trap now,” exclaimed Helen. “Millie takes her paper dolls to the sick children in the hospitals. I know, because the children told me. I was at the City Hospital the other day and peeped into the children’s ward. Much excitement—a vast population of paper dolls dressed in the latest modes. The youngsters were so tickled! They said a beautiful lady had brought them—a most wonderful, beautiful lady. And she was going to come back with paper and scissors and show them just how they were made!”