The Elk Mountain pilot., 1917-11-22

| on, III StdIu-
mering excite
ment, "they can't be coming for din
neri I invited them for next Thurs
day-the 18th! oh. they couldn't
have such "a"
you've got your dates Mixed" with
a snort. "What're you going to do
about it? Quicki'
"Theres not thing for dinner"
frantically. "Oh, we"
"Well, we can't keep them standing
down there" Then into the phone,
"Send them up"
"Oh, Warren, we can't have them !!
with hysterical shrillness. "We've
only a pot roast"
"Say you made mistake in the
datei II they've got any sense they'll
clear out"
"Oh, no-no. she'd be furious! It's
quarter of seven-we've half hour !
You receive them. Say we-oh, what
excuse can we give? Say the oven ex-
ploded-the maid burned her arm
dinner'n be late"
"I'n say nothing of the sort! Now
we'll not complicate things by lying"
You must! She'll be insulted if
Oh, there they are nowl"
As the door bell clamored, Helen
dashed out to the kitchen. Jerking
the bread knife from the astonished
Dora, she wrapped the girls apron
about her hand.
ats the Chambers! Go to the door,
but keep your hand in your apron.
You've burned it-understand? !?
Hurryi"
While the girl was ushering in the
unexpected guests, Helen made fran
tic survey of the ice box and pantry
shelves. The Chambers for dinner
with only a pot roast!
"Open this-quick handing down
Dora reappeared. ut only has to be
| heated"
For the next ten minutes the kitch-
en- was the scene Of desperate. nerve
tensioned haste. Dora, stimulated by
promised dollar. moved with unac-
customed speed. Behind the drawn
folding doors she changed the cloth
and reset the table with all the "cOm-
pany" frills.
Everything responded to the emer-
gency exigencies- the pot roast.
That remained n pot roast-ignomini-
ously cheap and plebeian. Helens
fertile brain had not yet concocted a
lie that would excuse 1t.
The hors-d'oeuvre on the table, the
cocktails mixed, the wine opened, and
Dora piled with countless instructions,
Helen rushed in to dress.
The pot roast! She was still strug-
Cling with the intractable pot roast
as she fluttered into an evening gown.
A quarter past seven, flushed.
breathless. and effusingly apologize,
she hurried in to greet her guests.
'Tm so sorry to have kept you wait
ing! I suppose Warren's told you
about our acc,dent-the oven exploded
and the maid burned her wrist"
Warren had not told them. Having
stolidly refused to "lie out of it," he
had made not the slightest explana-
ton for the half hours wait. and now
he glowered darkly at Helen's glib
excuses.
What would they think when the
pot roast appeared, anguished Helen,
The burned wrist could not explain
that.
The Italian hors-d'oeuvre wns a nOv-
city and most appetizing, but the soup,
having been diluted to make four por-
tions, was suspiciously thin. AS Dora
removed the plates, Helen, with deep
ening color, awaited the august en-
trance of the pot roast.
At last it came, meager dark
mound with its accompanying gravy
and Drowned potatoes. Helen saw Mrs.
Chambers astonished glance.
While Warren carved, she kept her
eyes fixed miserably on her plate. Un-
tile the very last she had hoped her
feminine agility for fabrications would
come to her rescue. But for once her
resourcefulness failed her. She could
inyen. no plausible excuse for this pot
roast.
1t wns a scant roast, too-barely
n pound and a half-and Warren was
cutting into it recklessly. To have
Dot roast-and not even enough |!
Could a guest dinner sink to greater
lgnominy1
"No, give that to Mr.. Chandler" as
Dora placed before her thickly
carved slice. Then to Warren: 'Dear,
lust some of the potatoes for me.
You're always forgetting about my
diet"
~Eh, what's thatr He looked up,
the knife suspended. but Helen's swift,
flaming glance was telepathic.