I was quite uplifted in my own estimation for the next twenty-four hours or so, and pleased myself mightily with the thought of out-doing all the other girls with my dainty, luscious dish. Allie and Daisy could be trusted "not to tell," when they had once given their promise; but they went about with a portentous aspect of having a secret, which almost made me regret that I had taken them into my confidence.

It being leap-year, and our advantages, or possibly disadvantages, in connection with that period being about to come to an end with the close of the year, we had determined upon making the most of them.

Hence our guests, when they should arrive, were to submit to be waited upon, and to receive such attentions as they were accustomed to bestow upon us.

The day and the hour had arrived, and the members of the cla.s.s, each one with an enormous protecting ap.r.o.n over her pretty dress, had a.s.sembled in our front bas.e.m.e.nt, which, being convenient to the kitchen and store-room, had been chosen as the workshop for the occasion. Each was intent on her own dish, and each in her turn was superintended and overlooked by cousin Serena; but merry talk and laughter held their own, in spite of business.

"What are you making, Amy?" asked Mollie Morgan. "How delicious and creamy that looks, and how readily you go to work about it. Why, I thought you were no cook at all; but one would think you had been doing that all your life. What is it?" she repeated, as I cast a guilty, deprecating look at Miss Craven. But cousin Serena had no thought of betraying me, and, although she must have heard, paid no attention to Mollie's remarks.

"It's food for the G.o.ds," I answered carelessly, as I tossed the luscious compound about with a spoon.

"Do you mean that is the name, or that it is your opinion that it is worthy to be food for the G.o.ds?" asked Bessie Sanford, who paused at my elbow, bearing in her hands a tray of delicate sponge-cakes.

"Both," I answered.

"Amy is ambitious; see what she is making, girls," said Mollie; and several, gathering round, peered at the diet of the G.o.ds with, as I imagined, envy and admiration.

"There!" I said, triumphantly, and as though I were a _cordon bleu_, accustomed to turn off feasts for an emperor--"There, now it is ready to go into the moulds. Oh, no, I have forgotten the flavoring. Jim,"

for the boy was there to wait upon us, and to run upon errands--"Jim, go and ask Mary Jane for a bottle of vanilla flavoring."

Now, I might have known better than to send Jim on this errand, for between him and Mary Jane there was a state of warfare, due, I must say, to her ill-temper and prejudice. Formerly it had been productive of much annoyance and discomfort to the household, and had at last reached such a climax, that father, who never interfered in domestic details, had unexpectedly taken the matter in hand, and given the old woman such a warning, that she had not since that time dared to give open vent to her dislike. But the fires, though smouldering, still were alive; and Jim never cared to ask her for any thing, or to carry a message to her.

However, now he ran into the kitchen, and presently returned with a bottle which he handed to me. Glancing at it, I saw that it was properly labelled, and I flavored with the contents according to directions; and, nothing doubting, then called upon cousin Serena to stamp it with her approbation, which she did. After which I poured the mixture into the moulds, and set it away.

Fairly well satisfied with the results of our afternoon's work, we removed such traces of it as had left their impress, took a short rest, and were ready in due time to receive our leap-year guests.

We were to have a high tea; the rest of our family, with cousin Serena, dining at an earlier hour than usual to accommodate us, and taking their later repast in the library.

There was naturally much fun and jollity over the reversal of the usual order of things, and we carried out our programme to the farthest; while our gentlemen displayed a degree of inefficiency and helplessness which would have disgraced a six-year-old girl with a moderate amount of sense.

All went well during the earlier part of the feast. Dish after dish was partaken of, and commended; and there was a universal chorus of approval for the fair cooks.

"It is going to pa.s.s off without a failure," I said to myself, recalling triumphantly the scepticism as to our capabilities, which some of our friends had testified.

And now appeared, in its turn, my own dish,--the "food for the G.o.ds,"--brought by Thomas and his a.s.sistants, with a little extra flourish as the work of their own young lady.

We were in groups of four, at little tables placed about the room; and the gentlemen, as had been arranged, were helped first to each course.

Happening to raise my eyes to address the youth upon my right hand, I saw his countenance suddenly distorted by a contortion expressive of any thing but pleasure. Turning involuntarily to my left-hand neighbor, who happened to be Mr. Winston, I saw a grimace, almost similar, pa.s.s over his face, followed by a look of blank astonishment at me.

Then came the voice of my brother Edward from an adjoining table, as he sat with uplifted spoon, gazing down upon the contents of his plate.

"Amy," he said, "what under the heavens is this?"

"Food for the G.o.ds," I answered, startled and dismayed; for I could not help seeing that something must be very wrong to betray Edward into such a breach of etiquette.

"Then we will not deprive the G.o.ds of it," said my brother; "and may the celestial--or was it for the infernal deities that it was compounded?--forgive you for inflicting this upon them. Winston, spare yourself, my dear fellow; the utmost stretch of politeness could not demand such a sacrifice of you."

For Fred Winston, true gentleman and loyal knight that he was, was making the most heroic efforts to swallow a little more of my handiwork.

And this from Edward, usually the most chivalrous of brothers!

I glanced around the room, and saw a similar state of affairs on every side. All those who had been unfortunate enough to taste the "food for the G.o.ds" wore a more or less distressed expression. I plunged my own spoon into my plate, and carried it to my mouth.

Pah! Any thing more nauseous I had seldom tasted. The G.o.ds were indeed to be pitied!

I covered my face with my hands as a laugh pealed around the room; and Norman came dashing into it, and up to me.

"Amy," he said, in a loud whisper which could be heard by all, "mother says don't let any one touch that stuff of yours. It's awful!"

"Awful" indeed! But it was too late; enough tasting had been done to cover me, as I felt, with everlasting disgrace.

"Amy was so awfully c.o.c.k-a-hoop about her new dish, too," began Norman; "and now----"

But his brotherly remarks were cut short by my left-hand neighbor, with an intimation, that, if he had any regard for his physical or mental well-being, he would at least postpone them.

Overcome with mortification and chagrin, I would fain have left the room, not only to hide my diminished head, but also to consult cousin Serena on the possible cause of this mishap, when Jim came up to me, and said, in an aside even louder than Norman's,--

"Miss Amy, it wouldn't poison none of 'em, would it?"

When Jim had any thing on his mind it must come out, regardless of time or place; and there was that in the boy's tone and manner which instantly convinced me that he knew more than appeared on the surface, and I turned hastily to him:--

"Poison any one? Why should it?" I asked.

"It's the liniment, Miss Amy," he answered nervously; "an', if they was poisoned, me or you might be took up. We'd best have a doctor, maybe."

Matters were growing serious; and springing from my seat, without apology to my guests, I bade the boy come into Thomas's pantry. Thither I was followed by Fred and Edward, who heard the confession of the frightened lad.

"It's the liniment, Miss Amy," he repeated. "Mary Jane's liniment for her rheumatics; but I think it ought to be her to be took up more than you an' me."

"Speak out, boy, and tell us what you mean," said Edward, imperatively; for he felt, that, if there was any reason for Jim's alarm, there was no time to be lost.

Thus pressed, Jim said that when I had sent him for the flavoring, he had caught up a bottle which he supposed to be the right one, and ran back without consulting the old cook.

Nothing doubting, I had made use of the contents; and he had possessed his soul in peace until a few minutes since, when Thomas had sent him on an errand to the kitchen, and he had heard Mary Jane bewailing the loss of her bottle of "rheumatiz liniment." She at once charged him with hiding it to torment her, but, before he could defend himself, one of the other servants asked what kind of a bottle it was; to which she replied, that it was a vanilla-bottle into which she had emptied the liniment, as that in which the lotion belonged had been cracked, and that she had stood it "just there."

A horrible conviction rushed upon Jim: "just there" was the place from which he had taken the bottle he brought to me. He dashed into the front bas.e.m.e.nt, found there the bottle in question, and speedily verified his own fears; then hurried up-stairs to prevent Thomas from taking in the "food for the G.o.ds." Alas! it was too late: the dish was already dispensed, a due portion having also been sent in to the tea-table in the library; and my disgrace was an accomplished fact.

Dread of the after consequences now took possession of Jim, and this impelled him to an immediate disclosure of the mistake. Indeed, none of us were without our misgivings; and Edward, sending for the bottle, went with it at once to our family physician, who lived but a few doors from us.

Dr. Graham laughed heartily when he heard of the mishap, and told Edward that there was no cause for alarm; as, although he would not advise unlimited indulgence in the lotion as a beverage, such harmful qualities as its ingredients possessed would be reduced to a minimum when mixed in the proportion Edward mentioned with the other articles of which the "food for the G.o.ds" was compounded.

So the matter became a joke to every one but me and the old cook, who received a severe reprimand for her carelessness in putting the liniment in an improper receptacle, and then leaving it in an improper place.

Thus ended my attempt at culinary distinction; a regard for the well-being of my friends and even for their lives, inducing me to quit the field without further trial of my powers.

What a long tale about a foolish mistake, it may be said; but, as "great events from little causes spring," the results of that mistake were vast and far-reaching, and we had not yet heard the last of the "food for the G.o.ds."