The tables must be immaculate; no spotted,
rumpled cloths and chipped cups at Comfort Cottage, which is to be a
strictly first-class tea station. You will put vases of flowers on
the tables, and you will not mix red, yellow, purple, and blue ones
in the same vase-"
"It's the way the good Lord mixes 'em in the fields," interjected
Mrs. Bobby piously.
"Very likely; but you will permit me to remark that the good Lord
can manage things successfully which we poor humans cannot. You
will set out your cream-jug that was presented to Mrs. Martha
Buggins by her friends and neighbours as a token of respect in 1823,
and the bowl that was presented to Mr. Bobby as a sword and shooting
prize in 1860, and all your pretty little odds and ends. You will
get everything ready in the kitchen, so that customers won't have to
wait long; but you will not prepare much in advance, so that
there'll be nothing wasted."
"It sounds beautiful in your mouth, miss, and it surely wouldn't be
any 'arm to make a trial of it."
"Of course it won't. There is no inn here where nice people will
stop (who would ever think of asking for tea at the Retired
Soldier?), and the moment they see our sign, in walking or driving
past, that moment they will be consumed with thirst.
