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Amarilly of Clothes-line Alley

Page 40

It was beginning to dawn upon her alert little brain that real things

were all quiet, not noisy like the theatre.

"What shall we have first, Amarilly?" inquired her new friend with mock

deference. "Bouillon?"

Amarilly, recalling the one time in her life when she had had

"luncheon," replied casually that she preferred fruit, and suggested a

melon.

"Good, Amarilly! You are a natural epicure. Fruit, certainly, on a warm

day like this. I shall let you select all the courses. What next?"

"Lobster," she replied nonchalantly.

"Fine! And then?"

"Grapefruit salad."

He looked at her in amazement, and reflected that she had doubtless been

employed in some capacity that had made her acquainted with luncheon

menus.

"And," concluded Amarilly, without waiting for prompting, "I think an

ice would be about right. And coffee in a little cup, and some cheese."

"By all means, Amarilly," he responded humbly. "And what kind of cheese,

please?"

"Now I'm stumped," thought Amarilly ruefully, "fer I can't 'member how

to speak the kind she hed."

"Most any kind," she said loftily, "except that kind you put in

mousetraps."

"Oh, Amarilly, you are a true aristocrat! How comes it that you scrub

floors? Is it on a bet?"

The waiter came up and said something to the artist in a low tone, and

Derry replied hastily: "Nothing to-day." Then, turning to Amarilly, he asked her if she would

like a glass of milk. Upon her assent, he ordered two glasses of milk,

to the veiled surprise of the waiter.

When the luncheon was served, Amarilly, by reason of her good memory,

was still at ease. The children at the Guild school had been given a few

general rules in table deportment, but Amarilly had followed every

movement of Colette's so faithfully at the eventful luncheon that she

ate very slowly, used the proper forks and spoons, and won Derry's

undisguised admiration.

"Mr. Vedder's, good," she thought. "Mr. St. John's grand, but this 'ere

Mr. Derry's folksy. I'd be skeert settin' here eatin' with Mr. St. John,

but this feller's only a kid, and I feel quite to hum with him."

"Amarilly," he said confidentially, as they were sipping their coffee

from "little cups," "you are truthful, I know. Will you be perfectly

frank with me and answer a question?"

"Mebby," she replied warily.

"Did you ever eat a luncheon like this before?"

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