The Countess, seated between Lennie Colman and Effie Chase, was eating her ice-cream, as silent as might be. Occasionally she smiled.
May I ask, Lennie queried, why you are smiling?
The Countess leaned towards the school-teacher confidentially. Do you know, my dear, she said, I feel like telling you a secret.
Do. What is it?
I've determined never to go near the water-works!
In the columns of the Star the next morning Miss Jelliffe gave a spirited account of this entertainment, but a week later she entirely outdid herself. It will be as well, perhaps, to reproduce her complete report:
'Tis, indeed, a good thing to come back home if every one should meet such a welcome as the Countess Nattatorrini (née Ella Poore) of Paris, France, says this much-missed noble matron who has been away from our midst for twenty long years, and who is back for the first time since her departure. Why, do you know, Louise Poore, her sister and hostess, says she only takes breakfast with her, her days being filled up with luncheons, teas, lap-suppers, euchre-parties, picnics, and kettle-drums, and still some of her friends, old and new, are disappointed at not being able to make a date with her and enjoy her company, for the simple reason that the days are not long enough for more to be crowded in. Beginning with the reception and lap-supper at her sister's residence last Friday (fully described in Saturday's Star) there has been a succession and
