“They are round at the back,” said Mrs Martendijk, looking brighter and livelier than he had ever seen her. “Look here, cousin,” and she took his arm confidentially to lead him to the back verandah, “have we not worked well to-day? Everything is ready——”
“But the party can——” began Max.
“And should you like to see what you’re going to have to-night?” And in the same friendly manner he was conducted to the pantry. “Just look at that magnificent trifle. And are not the tarts a success? But the pâtés are the thing. They look just as if they came straight from the best confectioner’s—do they not?”
“I am really sorry you have had so much trouble, and I must say it all looks beautiful; but the party cannot possibly go on,” repeated Max, firmly.
“What do you say?”
“Yes; it’s a great pity, and I can understand how annoyed you feel; but Jan is decidedly worse....”
Emily had recovered her composure by this time.
“Jan worse! My word! I had no idea of that,” she cried. “Gracious! cousin, if I had known that an hour sooner; and now the punch is made!”
It was now Max’s turn to be disconcerted.
“What do you say?” he exclaimed.