"That's what I said," said Burnett. "Begin with my dinner, white mice and all, and when all is going just let it slide until it seems about time to slide off."

"Yes," said Mitch.e.l.l dryly, "it's always a good plan to slide on until you slide off. It would be so easy to reverse the game."

"And then, too,-" began Burnett.

"Excuse me," said a voice at the door,-a woman's voice this time.

It was Janice, very pretty in her black dress and white decorations, hands in pockets, smile on lips.

"What's up now?" the last speaker interrupted himself to ask, "Aunt Mary?"

"No, she's not up," said the maid; "but she's awake and wants to know about the picnic."

"There, what did I say!" cried Burnett; "isn't she a hero? I tell you Aunt Mary'd fight in the last ditch-she'd never surrender! She's one of those dead-at-the-gun chaps. I'm proud to think we have known the companionship of joint yachting results."

"She says she feels as well as ever," said Janice, opening her eyes a trifle as she noted Burnett's pink silk negligee, "and wishes to know when you want to start."

"Bravo," said Mitch.e.l.l; "I, too, am fired by this exposition of pluck. I like spirit. She reminds me of the horse who was turned out to gra.s.s and then suddenly broke the world's record."

"What horse was that?" asked Burnett.

"Pegasus," said Mitch.e.l.l cruelly; "I didn't say what kind of a record he broke, did I?"

"What shall I tell Miss Watkins?" asked the maid.

Jack, who had risen at her entrance and gone to the window, faced around here and said:

"Tell her that if she'll dress we'll go out bonnet-shooting and afterwards drive in the park."

Janice hesitated.

"She will surely ask where you are to dine," said she, half-smiling.

Jack looked at the crowd.

"Fellows," he said, "we must save up for to-morrow's blow-out; suppose you let Mitch.e.l.l and me dine Aunt Mary somewhere very tranquilly to-night and we'll get her home by eleven."

"Yes, do," said Janice, with sudden earnest entreaty. "Honestly, there is a limit."

"Of course, there is a limit," said Mitch.e.l.l. "Even cities have their limits. This one tried to be an exception, but San Francisco yelled 'Keep off' and she drew in her claws again. Aunt Mary, possessing many points in common with New York, also possesses that. She has limits. Her limits took in more than we bargained for,-for they have taken us into the bargain.

Still they are there, and we bow to necessity. A cheerful drive, a quiet tea, early to bed. And _pax vobisc.u.m_."

"No wonder," said Burnett, "it's easy for you to agree when you're to be one of the dinner party." "I don't mind being left out," said Clover contentedly. "I shall sit on the sofa and whisper to 'the one behind.'

Whispering is an art that I have almost forgotten, but inspired by that pink-"

"Then I'll tell Miss Watkins to dress for the going out," said Janice, pointedly addressing herself to Jack.

"Yes, please do."

The maid left the room and went upstairs. Aunt Mary was tossing about on her pillow.

"Well, what's it to be?" she asked instantly.

"The storm has made it too wet to picnic," replied Janice. "Mr. Denham wants to take you to drive and afterwards you and Mr. Mitch.e.l.l and he are to dine-"

"And Burnett and Clover?" cried Aunt Mary in appalled interruption; "where are they goin'?"

"Really, I don't know."

"I don't like the idea," said Aunt Mary; "we'd ought to all be together. I never did approve of splittin' up in small parties. Did Jack say anythin'

about my gettin' another bonnet?"

"Yes, he thought that you would go to a milliner first."

"I don't know about lookin' sillier," said Aunt Mary. "Strikes me a woman can't look more foolish than she does without a bonnet. However, I don't feel like makin' a fuss over anythin' to-day. I've had a good rest and I feel fine. I'll dress and go out with Jack, an' I know one thing, I'll enjoy every minute I can, for this week is goin' like lightnin' and when it's over-well, you never saw Lucinda, so it's no use tryin' to make you understand, but-" she drew a long breath and shook her head meaningly.

Janice did not reply. She busied herself with the cares of the toilet of her mistress, and when that was complete the carriage was summoned for the shopping tour.

Jack saw that the bonnet was attended to first of all and then they went to another store and purchased a scarf pin for Joshua and a workbox for Lucinda. After that Aunt Mary decided that she wanted her four friends each to have a souvenir of her visit, so she insisted upon being conducted to that gorgeous establishment which is lighted with diamonds instead of electricity and ordered four dressing-cases to be constructed, everything with gold tops, to be engraved with the proper initials and also the inscription, "from M.W. in memory of N.Y." Jack rather protested at this, asking her if she realized what the engraving would come to.

"I don't know," said Aunt Mary recklessly and lavishly. "I don't care what it comes to either. It's comin' to me, anyhow, ain't it? I rather think so. Seems likely."

The clerk took down the order, and then as he was ushering them door-wards he fell by the wayside and craved permission to show some tiaras of emeralds and some pearl dog-collars. Jack rebelled.

"You don't want any of those," he exclaimed, trying to propel her by.

"I ain't so sure," said Aunt Mary. "I might have a dog some day."

But her nephew got her back into their conveyance, and they drove away. It was so late that they could not consider the park and so had to make a tour of Fifth Avenue to use up the time left before dinner. Then when they headed toward the cafe they were delighted to observe Mitch.e.l.l awaiting them just where he was to have been.

"I see him," said Aunt Mary. "My! I'd know him as far off as I'd know anybody." But then she sighed. "I wish the others were there, too," she said sadly; "seems awful-just three of us."

The dinner which followed echoed her sentiment. It was a very nice dinner, but painfully quiet, and Aunt Mary grew very restless.

"Seems like wastin' time, anyhow," she said uneasily. "I don't see why the others didn't come. Well, can't we go to Coney Island or the Statue of Liberty or somewhere when we're through?"

Mitch.e.l.l looked at Jack.

"Why, you see, Aunt Mary," the latter promptly shrieked, "we thought we'd be good and go home early and sort of rest up to-night so as to have a high old time to-morrow."

Aunt Mary's face, which had fallen during the first part of their speech, brightened up at the last words.

"What are we goin' to do?" she inquired with unfeigned interest.

"Burnett's going to give us a dinner," Jack answered, "and then afterwards we're going to help you see the town."

"Oh!" said Aunt Mary. A pleasant gleam fled over her face.