king of
having?"

"Oh, dozens. As many as we can have. If we do it at all, Cook, we'll
do it well."

"Clear soup?"

"We haven't come to soup yet," said Grizel cheerfully. "Lots of things
before soup."

"When I lived at the Robertses we were always giving dinners, but they
studied me, as well as themselves," Cook replied poignantly. "Soup, of
course, and fish, but she got in the entrees, to give me a clear hand
with the joint. Fowls mostly, or a saddle of mutton. The sweets were
cold, and she got in the savouries, and sometimes an ice pudding. Then
there was cheese straws, and dessert. She always said I managed very
well."

"You would do!" Grizel said. "Well, now you shall have a change. I
won't have anything at all like that..."

It was by this time easy to make a selection of guests, as every
visitable house in Chumley had made its own individual effort towards
entertaining the bride. Sometimes it was dinner, more often it was tea,
and, as Grizel pathetically declared, not even a _real_ tea, a tea where
you could sit quietly in a comfortable chair, and gossip, and consume
rich cake. A tea as enjoyed in Chumley was a strenuous affair, when
guests were bidden from four to six, and were expected to rack their
brains over a number of nerve-racking problems.

The first invitation of the sort that Grizel received was for a Kate
Tea. She misread the first word for Cake, and thought it suitable, if a
trifle ostentatious, but as she afterwards informed Cassandra, the
awakening was rude.

"It was `Kate,' my dear, not cake,--a wretched Kate that haunted us all
afternoon. Did you realise that every second word in the English
language ends with Kate? Well, it does! and Mrs Morley read out a
story, and we had to fill in the gaps with Kate words. Kate had an
untruthful nature and was given to prevari-Kate, so she got into
trouble, and engaged an advo-Kate. See?"

Cassandra groaned.

"Don't! Too awful. You'll have dozens of these preposterous
invitations if you once accept. Why do you go?"

"Ah!" Grizel looked thoughtful. "There was a prize.--I'd be bored for
hours for the chance of gaining a prize. Why is it that the prospect of
something for nothing has such a fatal lure? I might win a manicure
set, or a shoe-horn, or a leather bag. I've thousands already; I
wouldn't know what to do with the blessed things, but I crave to win
them! I racked my brains over that wretched Kate until I was quit