"And we had the best things, too. Just what you like—chicken salad with mayonnaise, and deep-dish huckleberry pie."
Chester shivered. "I don't think I'll take any supper to-night," he said.
"Why, what ails you, anyhow?" asked his mother, solicitously. "We're going to have such a nice supper. Your father brought home a couple of lobsters. And afterward we're going to have pistache ice-cream, and lady-fingers."
"Good Heavens, Mother, I guess I know when I'm not hungry. There are other things in life besides food, aren't there?"
"Like being in love, for example?" suggested his sister Hilda.
"I'm not in love," declared Chester, vehemently.
"How would you like to have me tell Mildred Wrigley you said that?" asked Hilda.
"I just wish you would," said Chester, "I just wish you would."
"By the way," remarked Mr. Jessup, "I met Tom Wrigley to-day and he said he was sending that girl of his off to boarding school at Simpson Hall."
"Oh, is he?" said Mrs. Jessup. "Chester, did you hear what your father said?"