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Just put down the Dunstans and ourselves and Ben and Tommy.”
    “And Aunt Harriet, naturally, and Uncle Charlie,” said Kay.
    “Of course,” said Mr. Banks. “But I’d go slow from there in.” He wrote rapidly, keeping a tally on the side of the paper. After three quarters of an hour he ran out of sheets.
    “Do you know how many you have on the list now?”
    “About fifty,” said Kay sulkily.
    “Two hundred and six. And that doesn’t include most of our friends, and perhaps Buckley’s family might have one or two people they’d like to squeeze in.”
    “Oh, all right, Pops, if you’re going to be so disagreeable about it. But I tell you it’s my wedding and it’s going to be small. I don’t care .”

    He was ruined. Clearly and utterly ruined.
    She suddenly left the table and rushed up the stairs. Mr. Banks stared after her in amazement. “Good God, Ellie. What’s the matter with Kay? We’re just sitting here quietly putting down a few names and she goes all to pieces.”
    “She’s nervous,” said Tommy, through a mouthful of cake. “All women are nervous.”
    Late that night, when the hush of sleep had fallen over Fairview Manor, Mr. Banks lay on his back gazing at the watery reflection of the street light on the ceiling.
    Three hundred people drinking his champagne. Three hundred people eating his food. Three hundred—
    He was ruined. Clearly and utterly ruined. All his life he had been a prudent and thrifty man. Now he was caught in the nutcracker of the conventions and was about to squeeze out his economic life with his own hands.
    “I won’t do it,” he groaned, rolling onto his side. But he knew he would.
    •  •  •
    Kay was alone at the breakfast table when he came down the next morning, feeling as if he had just returned from a three-day college reunion. Looking like a May morning, she slipped a piece of bread into the toaster for him.
    “Hi, Pops.”
    “Hi,” he said gloomily. He wondered how it was that women could go through these shattering emotional scenes and bounce up a few hours later as carefree as a sea gull behind the Queen Mary. He watched her butter the toast and a thought began to formulate in his jaded mind.
    “Listen, Kitten. I’ve got an idea.”
    “Good,” she said, putting his toast on the Lazy Susan and twirling it toward him.
    “I don’t know whether it’s good or not—and for God’s sake don’t tell your mother.”
    “Of course not. What is it, Pops?”
    “I’ll give you and Buckley fifteen hundred dollars to elope.”
    She looked at him incredulously. “Are you kidding?”
    “No, honest.”
    “Why, Pops, you must be out of your mind. Elope? Not have a wedding? Why, I wouldn’t dream of it! Why, you know Mom would die if I didn’t have a wedding with all the trimmings. I guess I would too. Not have any friends to see me get married—and all the people I’ve grown up with. Why, it wouldn’t be getting married, Pops. But you’re just pulling my leg.”
    “O.K.,” he said. “I just thought—O.K.”
    She came around the table and kissed him on the ear. “You’re sweet, Pops. Only don’t stew so much.”

   6   
    THESE SHALL BE THE WEDDING GUESTS
    You people are looking at this whole thing upside down,” said Mr. Banks. “It’s not a question of how many people you want. You must start with the house. How many can stand in it at one time? The extras get jammed into the church.”
    After tense debate it was decided that one hundred and fifty was the absolute maximum that could be packed into 24 Maple Drive without physical injury. An additional one hundred might receive invitations to the church, but certainly not to the reception.
    This did not mean, of course, that the invitations must be limited to these numbers. People living at great distances wouldn’t show up if they were in their right minds, so the Bankses might as well get the credit for having asked them. Then, with any luck at all, it was safe to count on a