"We will see," she said, "and anyhow I am too young to think about such things," and at that the little grandmother nodded approval.
Tommy, having made his one contribution to the general conversation, ate steadily through the menu, accompanied by Amelia, whose sigh when the last course of ice-cream was served in little melons with candied cherries on top was expressive of great bliss.
But the crowning surprise of the dinner was the birthday cake.
Perkins brought it in on a great silver platter, and placed it in front of Judy with a flourish.
"Oh, oh, isn't it lovely," cried all the little girls.
"That's great," from Launcelot and Tommy.
"Perkins' chef d'oeuvre," was the Captain's comment, and the Judge and the doctor and Mrs. Batcheller added their praises.
It really was a beautiful cake. The icing foamed up all over it like waves, and on the very top of the sugary billows was placed a little candy sailboat, as nearly like the lost "Princess" as Perkins could procure.
"Oh, how perfectly beautiful," said Judy. "How did you think of it, Perkins?" and she smiled at him in a way that set his old heart a-beating.
"You're to cut it, Miss," he said, handing her a great silver-handled knife. "There's a ring in it, and a thimble and a piece of money."