If I could secure Mr. Winthrop's consent to a plain
dinner, our entire domestic force could attend, and they were all eager
to do so. He and Mr. Bovyer were engaged in a warm discussion over some
knotty subject as they entered the dining-room, thereby compelling me to
leave my question for sometime unasked. But Mr. Bovyer presently turned
to me and said,
"Really, Miss Selwyn, you must think we have forgotten your existence."
"Oh, no, indeed; but I should like you to converse on something within
nearer range of my faculties for a little while."
"We are all attention."
I turned to Mr. Winthrop as he spoke:
"Is it really imperative that you have a regular dinner to-day? Could you
not take something easily prepared, a cup of tea, for instance, and some
cold meats, and the like?"
"You propose a genuine funeral repast. Is anything about to happen?"
"Our Christmas tree; and our entire household is eager to go, yourself
excepted."
"Why can't we all go?" Mr. Bovyer suggested, with considerable eagerness.
Mr. Winthrop looked aghast.
"They would think on the Mill Road the millennium was dawning if Mr.
Winthrop were to step down among them," I said.
"Then by all means let us foster the illusion."
"I will take the baked meats, Medoline, or a cracker and cheese--anything
rather than that crowd."
"That is ever so kind. I will come home to brew you a cup of tea myself.
Ever since I was a child I have wanted to prepare a meal all alone--it
will be really better than the Christmas tree; I mean more enjoyable.
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