“I should think that from four to four and a half pounds of veal would be sufficient for the joint,” said Marion meditatively. “Now, Jennie, here is our _menu_:” Fried Sole. Roast Fillet of Veal and Mushrooms. Potato Croquettes. Beans. Charlotte Russe. Victoria Sandwich. Custard in Glasses. The last item was Ada’s idea, and she undertook to make it herself. The invitations were sent at once for the following Saturday, and were promptly accepted. On the Friday before, Jane made some Victoria sandwich, and brought it home in the evening. She also prepared a small round cake tin ready for the Charlotte Russe. This is her recipe for the latter— _Charlotte Russe._—Dissolve half a pint of red jelly and pour a layer into the tin to the depth of half an inch. Let this set. Cut some finger sponge cakes to the depth of the tin and arrange them round the sides, sticking them together with jelly. Melt half an ounce of gelatine in half a pint of milk, and when it is lukewarm stir it into half a pint of sweetened whipped double cream, with which two ounces of crystallised cherries have been mixed. Pour this into the prepared mould and turn out when cold. On the Saturday morning, Ada made her custard. The fillet of veal was rolled and stuffed with a forcemeat made by boiling six ounces of calf’s liver and chopping it finely and mixing it with half a pound of breadcrumbs, two ounces of chopped suet, two tablespoonfuls of parsley, pepper and salt, and binding all together with beaten egg. The mushrooms that surrounded the joint had been peeled, rinsed and cooked separately in a little butter. Marion prepared and cooked the joint and dished it up; she also made the delicious potato croquettes, not one of which burst in the frying, and cooked the beans. On the eventful day Jane had nothing to dish up that was hot, so behold her dressed in her best, welcoming the guests in the sitting-room, which she had decked with sweet April primroses, and which looked its brightest. The table was laid for lunch, and in the kitchen Ada was even now frying the soles and Marion dishing the veal. In a few minutes they took off their large aprons, gave the beaming Abigail a few last directions, and joined the party. Abigail’s abilities had developed greatly of late, and she was fast becoming an intelligent waitress. On this occasion she served the fish with great promptitude, before it had time to get cold, and she contrived to keep the joint perfectly hot and crisp until it was time to carry it in, and the vegetables likewise.