George began to talk a great deal about the duty of entertaining. He said a man owed it to his century. And his party must be something out of the common run; it must be individual and exceptional. He thought he would give a party like the ones they gave in the Middle Ages. Judging from what he said, I think that it must have been very uncomfortable, and very expensive, for to be really grand you had to have cygnets and peacocks to eat. People stood about round the sides of the room, or sat on the floor or on coffers, and before the evening was half over the smoke from the flambeaux made it impossible for them to see each other's faces! That didn't suit Ariadne at all, and she snubbed the idea as much as she could. Luckily, George changed his mind, and then it was to be a supper, still Mediæval, at six o'clock. We should have had to eat with our fingers, because only the carver has a fork, and he sometimes lends it, but it can't go all round. That's the reason we have finger-bowls now, and little bits of bread beside our plates instead of big bits of brown to eat off. And when you were done, did you eat the plate? As far as I can see, everybody handed everybody they loved nice pieces off their own trenchers and drank out of the same glasses, so the fewer persons that loved one the better I should have liked it. You should have seen Mother's face when the middle-aged menu was explained to her! She said she would do what she could, but how was she going to put the grocers' and the butchers' shops back a century? The first course, George explained, was quite easy--it was little bits of toast with honey and hypocras. "Perhaps they will know what that is at the Stores?" Mother said, meaning to be funny. "There's a very civil young man there might help me?" "Next course, smoked eels," went on George. "Any soup you like, only it must be flavoured with verjuice. That is the third course. Then you have venison, rabbits, pigeons, fricasseed beans, river crabs, sorrel, oranges, capers in vinegar----" "It will relieve us for ever of the burden of entertaining for ever and ever, that's one good thing!" Mother said, "for nobody will care to try that _menu_ twice!" "It would look well in the papers, though," George said. "What do you say to barbecued pig?" But Mother would have nothing to say to barbecued pig, and George and Lady Scilly finally settled that it was to be a masked ball, costume not obligatory, but masks and dominos imperative, with a cold collation at twelve o'clock, and all the guests to unmask then. The date was chosen to please her, and it was changed three times, but at last it was fixed, and George got some cards printed that he had designed himself. They were quite white and plain, but with a knowing red splotch in one corner, which signified George's passionate Italian nature. I was in the study when the first dozens of packets came, with Miss Mander, and she undid them. Secretaries always take the right to open everything!