CHAPTER VI
TABLE MANNERS
Patty's dining-room was beautiful. She argued that as an appreciable
percentage of one's waking hours were spent there, care and thought
should be given to its appointment.
The colouring was soft old blue, and the furniture of mahogany. The
lights were pleasantly shaded and the sideboards and cabinets showed
attractive silver and glass in immaculate order.
"The flowers are in your honour," said Patty, smiling, as they took their
places at the table, in the centre of which was a bowl of azaleas.
"Ho, ho! You needn't have done that! I ain't accustomed to such grand
things."
"Now, Azalea, flowers on the table aren't especially grand. I think I
should have them,--if I could,--if I were eating in the middle of the
Desert of Sahara."
"I believe you would," said Bill, smiling at her; "Patty is a
flower-worshipper, Zaly. Zaly's the name your mother called you when
you were a tiny mite. Tell me about your father? Was he willing to be
left alone?"
"Oh,--he didn't mind. What lovely silver you have, Patty."
"Yes; they are my wedding presents."
"Oh, tell me all about your wedding!"
"I didn't have any. I mean, not a big reception and all that. We were
married in haste,--so we could have a chance to repent at leisure,--if
we want to."
"And do you?" asked Azalea, with such a serious air that the other two
laughed.
"I haven't had leisure enough for _that_ yet," Bill declared.
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