complacently how hot and buttery the popped corn would be an hour hence.




CHAPTER IV

PICTURES


Richard Kendrick had been guest at a good many dinners in the course of
his experience, dinners of all sorts and of varying degrees of
formality. Club dinners, college-class dinners, "stag" dinners at
imposing hotels and cafés, impromptu dinners hurriedly arranged by three
or four fellows in for a good time, dinners at which women were present,
more at which they were not--these were everyday affairs with him. But,
strange to say, the one sort of dinner with which he was not familiar
was that of the family type--the quiet gathering in the home of the
members of the household, plus one or two fortunate guests. He had never
sat at such a table under his own roof, and when he was entertained in
the homes of his friends the occasion was invariably made one for
summoning many other guests, and for elaborate feasting and diversion of
all kinds.

It will be seen, therefore, that Richard looked forward to a totally new
experience, without in the least realizing that he did so. His principal
thought concerning the invitation to the Grays' was that he should at
last have the chance to meet again the niece of his employer, in a way
that would show him considerably more of her as a woman than he had been
able to observe on the occasion when they had so hurriedly finished a