th the coloured electric lights
blazing from the pretty Christmas tree, the soft radiance of the room,
the fragrance of flowers, the exquisite table appointments, and the
pretty, kindly hostesses, was a scene well worthy of praise.

Anna Gorman trembled a little as she took her seat, and sat,
wide-eyed, looking almost as if in a trance of delight. Celeste
Arleson was less embarrassed, as her profession took her into fine
mansions and in presence of fashionable people every day.

Jenny Bisbee looked rapturous. "Oh," she said, "Oh! I am _so_ happy!"

The guests all looked a trifle awestruck when the first course
appeared, of grapefruit, served in tall, slender ice-glasses, each
with a red ribbon tied round its stem, and a sprig of holly in the
bow.

"Well, did you ever!" exclaimed Mrs. Greene. "And is this the way they
do things now? Well, well! It does look 'most too good to eat, but I'm
ready to tackle it."

Anna Gorman looked a little pained, as if this homely enthusiasm
jarred upon her sense of fitness. But Mona said hospitably, "Yes,
indeed, Mrs. Greene,--it's here to be eaten."

"Now, I'm free to confess, I don't know what spoon to take," Mrs.
Greene acknowledged, looking blankly at the row of flat silver before
her.

"I know," spoke up Jenny Bisbee, eagerly; "I read it in a Sunday
paper. You begin at the outside of the row, and eat in!"

"Land! are you sure to come out right, that way? S'pose you had a fork
left for your ice cream!"

"We'll risk it," said Mona, smiling. "Let's use this spoon at the
outside, as Jenny suggests."

The second course was clam bouillon, and after it was served, a maid
passed a dish of whipped cream.

Mrs. Greene watched carefully as Mona placed a spoonful on the top of
her soup, and then she exclaimed:

"Well, if that don't beat all! What is that, might I ask?"

"Whipped cream," said Mona. "Won't you have some?"

"Well, I will,--as you took some. But if that ain't the greatest! Now,
just let me tell you. A friend of mine,--she has seen some high
society,--she was telling me a little how to behave. And she told me
of a country person she knew, who had some soup in a cup once. And he
thought it was tea, and he ca'mly puts in milk and sugar! Well, he was
just kerflum-mixed, that poor man, when he found it was soup! So, my
friend says, says she: 'Now, Almira, whatever you do, _don't_ put milk
in your soup!' And, I declare to goodness, here you're doin' just that
very thing