“Pa and Ma!” said Bella.

“Permit me,” Mrs. Wilfer interposed, with outstretched glove. “No. I think not. I drank to your papa. If, however, you insist on including me, I can in gratitude offer no objection.”

“Why, Lor, Ma,” interposed Lavvy the bold, “isn’t it the day that made you and Pa one and the same? I have no patience!”

“By whatever other circumstance the day may be marked, it is not the day, Lavinia, on which I will allow a child of mine to pounce upon me. I beg⁠—nay, command!⁠—that you will not pounce. R. W. , it is appropriate to recall that it is for you to command and for me to obey. It is your house, and you are master at your own table. Both our healths!” Drinking the toast with tremendous stiffness.

“I really am a little afraid, my dear,” hinted the cherub meekly, “that you are not enjoying yourself?”