She knew Kipper's charges; she knew everybody's charges.
"That dish of fish," she said to herself, "was not less than sixty cents; the sweetbreads cost a dollar, if they cost a cent; this sirloin, with mushrooms, was seventy-five cents; that, with the French biscuit, is two dollars and a half for a family lunch for two people." Miss Panney did not let her steak get cold, for she could talk and eat at the same time, and the founder of Methodism never delivered so scorching a tirade against pomp and show in professors of religion as she gave forth in his name.
Mrs.Tolbridge had been very quiet during the course of the meal, but she was now constrained to declare that she had nothing to do with the plans for the new Methodist church, and, in fact, she knew very little about them.
"Some things concern all of us," retorted Miss Panney.

"Suppose Bishop White, when he was ordained and came back to this country, had found a little village--" Her remarks were stopped by a dish of salad.

The young and tender leaves of lettuce were half concealed by a mayonnaise dressing.
"This makes three dollars," thought Miss Panney, as she helped herself, "for Kipper never makes any difference, even if you send your own lettuce to be dressed." And then she went on talking about Bishop White, and what he would have thought of a little cathedral in every country town.
"But the Methodists do not have cathedrals," said Mrs.Tolbridge.
"Which makes it all the worse when they try to build their meeting-houses to look like them," replied the old lady.
It was a long time since Miss Panney had tasted any mayonnaise dressing as good as this.

But she remembered that the strawberries were to come, and did not help herself again to salad.
"If one of the old Methodist circuit-riders," she said, "after toiling over miles of weary road in the rain or scorching sun, and preaching sometimes in a log meeting-house, sometimes in a barn, and often in a private house, should suddenly come upon--" The imaginary progress of the circuit-rider was brought to a stop by the arrival of the last course of the luncheon.

From a pretty glass dish uprose a wondrous structure.