This time Miss Lyberg herself went to the door， and welistened. More arrivals for the sociable； four Swedish guests，all equally gaily attired in flower hats. Some of them worebangles， the noise of which， in the hall， sounded like aninfuriation of sleigh-bells. They were Christina and Sophie andSadie and Alexandra—as we soon learned. It was wonderfulhow welcome Gerda made them， and how quickly theywere “at home.” They rustled through the halls， chatting andlaughing and humming. Such merry girls！ Such light-heartedlittle charmers！ Letitia stood looking at them through the crackof the drawing-room door. Perhaps it was just as well thatsomebody should have a good time in our house.
“Just the same， Letitia，” I observed， galled， “I think I shouldsay to-morrow that this invasion is most impertinent—mostuncalled for.”
“Yes， Archie，” said Letitia demurely， “you think you shouldsay it. But please don’t think I shall， for I assure you that Ishan’t. I suppose that we must discharge her. She can’t doanything and she doesn’t want to learn. I don’t blame her. Shecan always get the wages she asks by doing nothing. You wouldpursue a similar policy， Archie， if it were possible. Everybodywould. But all other laborers must know how to labor.”
I was glad to hear Letitia echoing my sentiments. She wasquite unconsciously plagiarizing. Once again she took up thecook-book. The sound of merrymaking in the kitchen driftedin upon us. From what we could gather， Gerda seemed to be“dressing up” for the delectation of her guests. Shrieks oflaughter and clapping of hands made us wince. My nerveswere on edge. Had any one at that moment dared to suggestthat there was even a suspicion of humor in these proceedingsI should have slain him without compunction. Letitia was lessirate and tried to comfort me.
Letitia sighed， and shut up the cook-book. Eggs à la reineseemed as difficult as trigonometry， or conic sections， ordifferential calculus—and much more expensive. Certainlythe eight giggling cooks in the kitchen， now at the very heightof their exhilaration， worried themselves little about suchconcoctions. My nerves again began to play pranks. Thedevilish pandemonium infuriated me. Letitia was tired andwanted to go to bed. I was tired and hungry and disillusioned.
It was close upon midnight and the Swedish Thursday wasabout over. I thought it unwise to allow them even an initialminute of Friday. When the clock struck twelve， I marchedmajestically to the kitchen， threw open the door， revealedthe octette in the enjoyment of a mound of ice-cream and amountain of cake—that in my famished condition made mymouth water—and announced in a severe， yet subdued tone，that the revel must cease.
“You must go at once，” I said， “I am going to shut up thehouse.”
Then I withdrew and waited. There was a delay， during whicha Babel of tongues was let loose， and then Miss Lyberg’s sevenguests were heard noisily leaving the house. Two minutes later，there was a knock at our door and Miss Lyberg appeared， hereyes blazing， her face flushed and the expression of the huntedantelope defiantly asserting that it would never be brought tobay， on her perspiring features.
“You’ve insulted my guests！” she cried， in English as goodas my own. “I’ve had to turn them out of the house， and I’vehad about enough of this place.”
