"Ask him to stay to tea." "Well," said Turner doubtfully, as she paused at the foot of the stairs, "I will, but you know we never have anything to speak of for Sunday evening tea.

June is out, and you know how clumsy and stupid Delphine is when she waits on the table." It _was_ young Haight.

Turner was very glad to see him, for next to Vandover she liked him better than any of the others.

She was never bored by being obliged to entertain him, and he always had something to say and some clever way of saying it.
About half-past five, as they were talking about amateur photography, Mrs.Ravis came in and called them to tea.
Tea with the Ravises was the old-fashioned tea of twenty years ago.

One never saw any of the modern "delicacies" on their Sunday evening table, no enticing cold lunch, no spices, not even catsups or pepper sauces.
The turkey or chicken they had had for dinner was served cold in slices; there was canned fruit, preserves, tea, crackers, bread and butter, a large dish of cold pork and beans, and a huge glass pitcher of ice-water.
In the absence of June, Delphine the cook went through the agony of waiting on the table, very nervous and embarrassed in her clean calico gown and starched apron.