"
"Your which? Cicely, can you translate her remarks?"
"Ask Melchisedek. He devoured Allyn's Latin grammar, day before
yesterday," Cicely responded from the farther side of the room where she
was feeding the dog chocolate peppermints, in a futile endeavor to teach
him that vertebrae were meant to assist him in sitting up.
"But it is no joke, really," Theodora went on. "I can cook, or I can
entertain; but I can't do both."
"Then go out into the highways and hedges and hire somebody," her husband
suggested.
"I have. I started with a long list of people who had been recommended to
me; but they all are engaged for that day. One would think the town was
going into wholesale banquetings. For some people, I wouldn't mind; but
Mr. Gilwyn is a pompous, gouty old soul, and moreover, he holds my
fortunes in the hollow of his hand."
"How do you know he is coming?"
"A note, this morning. He hopes to see me at his lecture, and so on."
"Let's shut up the house and run down to New York, for a day or two,"
Billy said hospitably.
"No use. I should feel guilty to the end of my days, and embody my guilt
in my next book. No; I can't afford to have my 'healthy tone'
demoralized. I shall face my duty, even if I have to ask him to sit by
the kitchen hob, as Cicely calls it, while I prepare his simple meal."
Cicely gave the last of the peppermint to Melchisedek who bolted it with
an ill-advised greed that brought the tears to his eyes, for the
peppermint was a hot one.
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