She was a broad-minded woman, and she knew there was no harm in these petting parties, but she was also a methodical woman. Everything in its place was her motto. A bedroom was no place for a petting party, and she darkly suspected that there were couples in there. With the couples who were leaning against the walls in the hall she had no argument. But it wasn't nice to go hide where nobody could see you at your deviltry. She took the matter up with Sue. Nothing came of it, however, except another quite unexpected marriage on the same day as Sue's.
There had been no attempt made to decorate the parlor. A piano and a framed photograph of Bill Cudahy, who was a traffic cop, was enough decoration for any room in the world, at least in Bill Cudahy's estimation. But the dining-room had been decorated. There was a huge red-and-green bell dangling from the chandelier. It was one of those bells that are only a flat half bell at the time of purchase but can be opened with a quick, deft gesture and transformed into a thing of beauty and frequently a joy forever to its owners. It is a splendid buy. There is no holiday for which a bell doesn't make a nice decoration.
Holly was scattered promiscuously about the room. Each picture had a clump of holly peeping out from behind it. There was mistletoe over the doorway. Mrs. Cudahy had misjudged her guests.
The table was resplendent with a paper table cover. Mrs. Cudahy had only at the last minute decided to be high-toned. By that time the stationery man had been out of covers bearing Santa Claus and his reindeers. There hadn't been anything appropriate for a wedding either. So Mrs. Cudahy took what he had. It was a crinkly white cover with the Father of his Country done in gold and white on two corners and red, white, and blue rosettes on the others.
In the center of the table was a large cake with oceans
