'Vicki?'
He had the grace to blush. 'Well, Fraulein What's her name. You can't expect any one decent to get the hang of these names of yours. They ain't got any hang, so how's one to get it? What'd she like for Christmas? Don't you all kick up a mighty fuss here over Christmas?
Trees, and presents, and that? Plummier plum-puddings than we have, and mincier mince-pies, what?'
'If you think you will get even one plum-pudding or mince-pie,' said I, thoughtfully peeling, 'you are gravely mistaken. The national dish is carp boiled in beer.'
Joey looked really revolted. 'What?' he cried, not liking to credit his senses.
'Carp boiled in beer,' I repeated distinctly. 'It is what I'm going to give you on Christmas Day.'
'No you're not,' he said hastily.
'Yes I am,' I insisted. 'And before it and after it you will be required, in accordance with German custom, to sing chorales.'
'I'd like to see myself doin' it. You'll have to sing 'em alone. I'm invited to feed down there.'
And he jerked his head toward that portion of the kitchen wall beyond which, if you passed through it and the intervening coal-hole and garden and orchard, you would come to the dwelling of the Lindebergs.
'Oh,' said I; and looked at him thoughtfully.
'Yes,' said he, trying to meet my look with an equal calm, but conspicuously failing. 'That bein' so,' he went on hurriedly, 'and my droppin', so to speak, into the middle of somebody's Christmas tree and that, it seems to me only decent to give the little girl somethin'. What shall I get her? Somethin' to put on, I suppose. A brooch, or a pin, what?'
'Or a ring,' said I, thoughtfully peeling.
'A ring? What, can one--oh I say, don't let's waste time rottin'--'
And glancing up through cautious eyelashes I saw he was very red.
'It'd be easy enough if it was you,' he said revengefully.
'What would?'
'Hittin' on what you'd like.'
'Would it?'
'All you'd want to do the trick would be a dictionary.'
'Now Mr. Collins that's unkind,' said I, laying down my knife.
He began to grin again. 'It's true,' he insisted.
'It suggests such an immeasurable stuffiness,' I complained.
'It isn't my fault,' said he grinning.
'But perhaps I deserve it because I mentioned a ring. Let me tell you, as man to man, that you must buy no brooches for Vicki.'
'A pin, then?'
'No pins.'
'A necklace, then?'
'Nothing of the sort. What would her parents say? Give her chocolates, a bunch of roses, perhaps a book--but nothing more. If you do you'll get into a nice scrape.'
Joey looked at me. 'What sort of scrape?' he asked curiously.
'Gracious heavens, don't you see? Are you such a supreme goose? My poor young man, the parents would immediately ask you your intentions.'
'Oh would they,' said Joey, in his turn becoming thoughtful; and after a moment he said again, 'Oh would they.'
'It's as certain as anything I know,' said I.
'Oh is it,' said Joey, still thoughtful.
'It's a catastrophe young men very properly dread,' said I.
'Oh do they,' said Joey, sunk in thought.
'Well, if you're not listening--' And I shrugged my shoulders, and went on with my peeling.
He pulled his cap out of the pocket into which it had been stuffed, and began to put it on, tugging it first over one ear and then over the other in a deep abstraction.
'You're in my kitchen,' I observed.
'Sorry,' he said, snatching it off. 'I forgot. You always make me feel as if I were out of doors.'
'How very odd,' said I, interested and slightly flattered.
'Ain't it. East wind, you know--decidedly breezy, not to say nippin'.
Well, I must be goin'.'
'I think so too,' said I coldly.
'Don't be dull while I'm away,' said Joey; and departed with a nod.
But he put in his head again the next moment. 'I say, Miss Schmidt--'
'Well, what?'
'You think I ought to stick to chocolates, then?' 'If you don't there'll be extraordinary complications,' said I.
'You're sure of that?'
'Positive.'
'You'd swear it?'