"Oh, you don't count," I said. "You're coming anyhow."

Then I told him of the errand with our millionaire friends, into the
spirit of which he entered with the greatest zest. He was full of advice
and much excited lest I fail to do a thoroughly competent job. For a
moment I think he wanted to take the whole thing out of my hands.

"Man, man, it's a lovely thing to do," he exclaimed, "but I ha' me
doots--I ha' me doots."

At parting he hesitated a moment, and with a serious face inquired:

"Is it by any chance a goose?"

"It is," I said, "a goose--a big one."

He heaved a sigh of complete satisfaction. "You have comforted my mind,"
he said, "with the joys of anticipation--a goose, a big goose."

So I left him and went onward toward the Starkweathers'. Presently I saw
the great house standing among its wintry trees. There was smoke in the
chimney but no other evidence of life. At the gate my spirits, which had
been of the best all the morning, began to fail me. Though Harriet and I
were well enough acquainted with the Starkweathers, yet at this late
moment on Christmas morning it did seem rather a hair-brained scheme to
think of inviting them to dinner.

"Never mind," I said, "they'll not be displeased to see me anyway."