I appeared at the dinner in my native gown.
The things on the table had a high-toned excellence.
I will not forget to have my initials engraved if I happen to buy any silver.
Coffee was served. I felt that an old age had returned, when eating was only a dissipation.
I’m growing to love Meriken food.
I am glad that I don’t see any musty pudding at Schuylers’, a sight that makes me ten years older.
And another thing I hate is the smell of cabbage.
How pleased I was to see a “chabu chabu” of shallow water in my finger bowl! Just a glimpse of water is tasty.
Our taciturn butler retired from the dining-room with graceful dignity.
The butler has ceased to be a common servant. He has advanced, I suppose, to the rank of an ornament of the Meriken household.