'It is only a flamingo, you little goose yourself,' cried Clement.
'Here is the golden egg of the present,' said Mr. Underwood,
replenishing the boy's plate with that delicious pie. 'What's that
beverage, Wilmet? Any horrible brew of your own?'
'No, it is out of Mr. Audley's hamper.'
'The universal hamper. It is like the fairy gifts that produced
unlimited eatables. I dreaded cowslip wine or periwinkle broth.'
'No, no, Papa,' sighed Alda, 'we only once made cowslip tea at Vale
Leston.'
'Vale Leston is prohibited for the day.--Master Felix Chester
Underwood, your good health; and the same to the new Underwood of
Centry Underwood.'
'Shall we see him, Papa?' asked Alda.
'If either party desires the gratification, no doubt it will come
about.'
'Shall not you call on him, Papa?'
'Certainly not before he comes. Mother, some of the wonderful bottle-
--ay, you covetous miser of a woman, or I'll make a libation of it
all. Audley, it must have wrung your father's butler's heart to have
thrown away this port on a picnic. What did you tell him to delude
him?'
'Only what was true--that I was to meet a gentleman who was a judge
of the article.
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