"No," answered Caroline Darrah positively, "you are going to eat that
bird and the omelet. You may substitute dry toast for the waffle if
Tempie will let you. She's angry, and I'm in trouble. She won't use
that recipe I got from your Mammy Kitty to make the cake I promised David
Kildare for tea. She says she and her family have been making Buchanan
cake ever since there was any cake and she is not going to begin now
making Donelson mixtures. I think I hurt her feelings. What must I do?"
"Let her alone, she has the right of it and the cake is sure to be just
as good," laughed Phoebe.
"But I promised him it should be just like the one you gave us the other
afternoon, only with the icing and nuts thicker than the cake," answered
Caroline in real distress. "He says that Mr. Sevier likes it that way,
too," she added ingenuously.
"Caroline Darrah, you spoil those men to the most outrageous extent. It's
like David to want his icing and nuts thicker than the cake; he always
does--and gets it, but it isn't good for him." As Phoebe spoke she smiled
at Caroline Darrah indulgently.
"I can't help it, Phoebe," she answered with the rose wave mounting under
her eyes. "I'm stupid--I don't know how to manage them. I'm just--fond of
them."
For a second Phoebe regarded her from under veiled eyes, then said
guardedly, "Doesn't that give them rather the advantage to start with--if
you let them find it out?"
"Yes," answered Caroline as she pressed her cheek against Phoebe's arm,
"I know it does but I can't help it. I have to trust to them to
understand."
For a moment Phoebe was silent and across her mind there flashed David's
description of a man who sat into the gray dawn fighting his battle--his
own and hers--a man who wouldn't run!
"Perhaps that's the best way after all, dearie," she said as she prepared
to slip out of bed. "Only it takes the exceptional woman to get results
from your method. It ought to work with David; others don't seem to!"
"Phoebe, Phoebe--why--why?" and Caroline caught and held Phoebe for a few
seconds. "Don't you care at all?"
"Yes, child--a lot! Having admitted which I will betake myself to the
plunge--leaving you to finish the cake for the precious thing." In a
second Phoebe smiled back from the door: "Just one little waffle, tell Tempie," she said. "And I'm due to make a
lightning toilet if I get to that Woman's Guild meeting at eleven-thirty.
Call the office for me and tell them not to send Freckles until
one-thirty to-day. And, dearie, please call Polly and tell her to be sure
and go to that meeting of the Daughters of the Colonies so she can tell
me what happens. Tell her to get it all straight--names and all and I
will phone her. And not to let them office or committee me just because
I'm not there! You are a dear!"