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sounding stricken. What a dreadful idea, suggesting that Johnny play old maid or lotto with her family. He would never want to come again.
    Mr. Jarrett patted Jean’s hand. “Don’t worry, daughter. I was only joking. Of course you may entertain your young man.” It sounded so quaint and old-fashioned, his saying “your young man.”
    â€œThe breakfast nook,” said Mrs. Jarrett as Jeanand Sue rose to clear the table. “It is the only place for us. We’ll move the television set in here before Johnny comes and after we meet him, we can come back here, and your father can watch his television programs while I work on a contest.”
    Jean and Sue exchanged a smile in the kitchen. “Whew!” mouthed Jean silently.
    â€œWhat are we having for dessert, Mother?” asked Sue.
    â€œVanilla pudding,” answered Mrs. Jarrett. “There is a jar of strawberry preserves open. You might put a dab on top of each serving to give it a little color.”
    â€œLet’s call it blancmange,” suggested Sue. “It sounds so much more glamorous. When I used to read in Little Women about the March girls’ taking blancmange to Laurie when he was sick, I thought it must be a great delicacy.”
    â€œWhy, so did I!” exclaimed Jean. “I felt terribly disillusioned to find out it was plain old vanilla cornstarch pudding.”
    â€œI suppose this boy is going to eat us out of house and home,” commented Mr. Jarrett, as the family began to eat the vanilla pudding, or blancmange.
    â€œThat is just in the funny papers. At least I thinkit is,” said Jean, “but I suppose I should give him something to eat. I hadn’t thought of that.”
    Jean thought it over. She had a vague notion that when a boy came to see a girl, the girl usually took him into the kitchen to raid the refrigerator. The Jarrett refrigerator, unfortunately, did not merit raiding. Vanilla pudding and cold meat loaf were hardly the sort of things a girl could offer a boy. And the milk…It was stored in half-gallon cartons that Mrs. Jarrett bought at the market, because she saved two and a half cents a quart, just as she bought butter in one-pound pieces because it cost five cents less than a pound of butter divided into quarters. Jean did wish they could have milk delivered in bottles from a dairy. It seemed to her that quartered butter and milk in bottles always looked so elegant in a refrigerator.
    â€œI think you should fix something ahead of time,” said Sue, who also must have been taking mental inventory of the Jarrett refrigerator. “Something you can whisk onto the table. That is what I would do if he were coming to see me.”
    â€œWhat table?” asked Jean. “Mother and Dad will be in the breakfast nook. Eating with a boy in the dining room is too formal.”
    â€œServe it from a tray on the coffee table,” said Sue.
    â€œI think that is a very practical suggestion. Now don’t worry, Jean. I am sure it will all work out.” Mrs. Jarrett patted her daughter’s hand.
    Jean looked around the table at her mother, smiling at her so reassuringly; at her ruddy-complexioned father, who was so tenderhearted underneath his sternness; at Sue, who had helped her, even though it must hurt to have her younger sister have the first date. Jean was completely happy. She not only had a date with Johnny, she also had the most wonderful, understanding family in the whole world.

Chapter 4
    Mrs. Jarrett, in galoshes and her wet-weather coat, stood by the drainboard enjoying a last-minute sip of coffee before she left for her day of selling yardage at Fabrics, Etc. “It is such miserable weather I doubt if we will be very busy today,” she remarked, “even though we are having a good sale on seersucker mill ends. There are some very good buys—pieces that would make up into sturdy pajamas for children.”
    Sue, who was stacking the