age! What can sundries include? She hasn't
skipped anything but pew-rent."

My sister looked at the total, and buried her face in the pillows to
smother a groan.

"Ring the bell," I said; "I want the maid."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to find out what 'sundries' are."

She gave the bell-cord such a pull that she broke the wire, and it
fell down on her head.

"That, too, will go in the bill. Wrap your handkerchief around your
hand and give the wire a jerk. Give it a good one. I don't care if it
brings the police."

The maid came.

"Martha, present my compliments to Mrs. Black, and ask her what
'sundries' include."

Martha came back smiling.

"Please, miss, Mrs. Black's compliments, and 'sundries' means that you
complained that the coffee was muddy, and after that she cleared it
with an egg. 'Sundries' means the eggs."

"Martha," I said, weakly, "give me those Crown salts. No, no, I
forgot; those are Mrs. Black's salts. Take them out and tell her I
only smelled them once."

"Martha," said my sister, dragging my purse out from under my pillow,
"here is sixpence not to tell Mrs. Black anything." Then when Martha
disappeared she said, "How often have I told you not to jest with
servants?"

"I forgot," I said, humbly. "But Martha has a sense of humor, don't
you think?"

"I never thought anything about it. But what are you going to do about
that bill?"

"I'm going to argue about it, and declare I won't pay it, and then pay
it like a true American. Would you have me upset the traditions? But
I've got to go to the bank first."

I did just as I said. I argued to no avail. Mrs. Black was quite
haughty, and made me feel like a chimney-sweep. I paid her in full,
and when I came up I said:

"You are quite right. She has a poor opinion of us. When I asked her
how long it would take to drive to a house in West End, she said, 'Why
do you want to know?' I said I 'wanted to see the house.'"

"Didn't you tell her we were _invited_ there?" asked my sister,
scandalized.

"No; I said I had heard a good deal about the house, and she said it
was open to the public on Fridays. So I said we'd go then."

"I think you are horrid!" cried Bee. "The insolence of that woman! And
you actually think it is funny! You think _everything_ is funny."

I soothed her by pointing out some of the things which I considered
sad, notably English people trying to enjoy themselves. Then the men
began to drop in for tea, and