"I never was a great believer in bein' out nights," she said, "but I guess I'll make an exception to-morrow. I might as well be doin' that as anythin', I presume. Maybe better-very likely better."

"Oh, very much better," said Mitch.e.l.l. "It is the exceptions that furnish all the oil in life's machinery. The exceptions not only generally prove too much for the rule, but they also generally prevent the rule from proving too much for us. They-"

"But I don't see why we couldn't go to two or three vaudevilles to-night, too," said the old lady, suddenly. "I feel so sort of ready-for-anythin'."

"You always feel that way, Miss Watkins," screamed Mitch.e.l.l. "It is we that are the blind and the halt. You are ever fresh, but we falter and faint. You see it's you that go out, but it's we that you get back. You-"

"We could go to one vaudeville, anyway," said Aunt Mary abstractedly; "an'

if we saw any places that looked lively we could stop a few minutes there on our way back. I've never been into lots of things here."

Jack looked at Mitch.e.l.l this time.

"I'm sorry, Miss Watkins," he roared, "but _I'll_ have to go home, anyhow.

You see, I'm not used to the lively life which has been enlivening us all this week and, being weakly in my knees, needs must look out."

Aunt Mary looked very disappointed.

"Then Jack and I'll go, too," she said, "but oh! dear, I do hate to waste my stay in the city sleepin' so much. I can sleep all I want after I get home, but-" she paused, and then said with deep feeling, "Well, you don't understand about Lucinda an' so you don't understand about anythin'."

Both the young men felt truly regretful as they put her into the carriage for the return trip. Her deep enjoyment was so genuine and naive that they sympathized with her feelings when cut off from it.

But it was best that this one night should pa.s.s unimproved, and so all five threw themselves into their respective beds with equal zest and slept-and slept-and slept.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - AUNT MARY'S NIGHT ABOUT TOWN

The next day came up out of the ocean fair and warm, and when it drew toward later afternoon no more propitious night for setting forth ever happened.

It was undeniably a night to be remembered. And Aunt Mary's entertainers drew in deep breaths as they girded themselves for the conflict. They certainly intended to do themselves proud and on top of all the lesser "times of her life" to pile the one pre-eminent which should rest pre-eminent forever. Aunt Mary had been gay in the first part of the week,-gayer and gayer as the week progressed, but that final crowning night was indubitably the gayest of all. If you doubt this read on-read on-and be convinced.

They began with Burnett's dinner in the private room. No matter where the private room was, for it really wasn't a private room at all-it was a suite of rooms borrowed and arranged especially for that one occasion.

They gathered there at eight o'clock and began with oysters served on a large bra.s.s tray in a half-dim Turkish room where incense sticks burned about and queer daggers held up the curtains. The oysters were served on their arrival and the megaphones stood like extinguishers over each with the name cards tied to the small end. The effect was really unique. Aunt Mary had one, too, and they were all rejoiced at her delight in the scheme, and a few seconds after they were doubly rejoiced over its success for no one had to speak loud-the megaphones did it all, producing a lovely clamor which deafened all those who could hear and caused Aunt Mary to feel that she heard with the rest.

Amidst the cheerful din they exchanged such very wild remarks as oysters always inspire and each and all were mutually content at the effect thereof. Then they finished, and Burnett rose at once, flung back the portieres, and led them in upon their soup which stood smoking on a large card table in the next room. There were boutonnieres with the soup, and violets for Aunt Mary, and again they used the megaphones and again the conversation partook of the customary conversation which soup produces.

The soup finished, Burnett jumped up again and threw back other portieres and they all moved out into a dining-room, with its table spread with a substantial dinner. This time it was the real thing. Candelabra, ice-pails, etc.

Aunt Mary had a parrot in a gilt tower, and all the men had white mice in houses shaped like hat-boxes. Mitch.e.l.l's seat was flanked with wine coolers, and Burnett's, too. There was all that they could desire to eat and drink and more. The feast began, and it was grand and glorious.

"I'll tell you what," said Aunt Mary, in the midst of the revel, "if this is what it means in papers when it speaks of high livin', I don't blame 'em for bein' willin' to die of it young. One week like this is worth ten years with Lucinda. Twenty. A whole life."

"Say, Jack," said Burnett in an undertone, "let's have Lucinda come to town next and see the effect on her."

"Miss Watkins," said Clover through his megaphone, "as a mark of my affection I beg to offer you my white mouse. Do you accept?"

"Oh, I don't want to go back to the house yet," said Aunt Mary, much disturbed. "It's too soon."

"We won't go home till morning," said Burnett. "Not by a long shot. Here, Mitch.e.l.l, give us a speech. Home! we don't want to drink _to_ it, but we do want to drink to it _here_."

"Home!" said Mitch.e.l.l, rising with his gla.s.s in his hand. "Home! here's to home, and I'll drink to it in anything but a cab. Home, Aunt Mary and gentlemen, is the place where one may go when every other place is closed.

As long as any other place is open, however, I do not recommend going home. The contrast is always sharp and bitter and to be avoided until unavoidable circ.u.mstances, over which we possess but little control, force us to give our address to the man who drives and let him drive us to the last place on the map. And so I drink to that last place-home; and here's to it, not now, but a good deal later, and not then unless what must be has got to result."

Mitch.e.l.l paused and they all drank.

"Me next now," exclaimed Burnett, jumping to his feet. "I'm going to make a speech at my own dinner, and as a good speech is best made off-hand, I've picked out an off-hand subject and arise to give you 'Lucinda.'

Having never met her I feel able to say nothing good about her and I call the company present to witness that I shall say nothing bad either. I gather from what I have had a stray chance of picking up that Lucinda is all that she should be, and nothing frisque. The latter quality is too bad, but it's not my fault. Therefore, I say again 'Lucinda', and here's to her very good health. May she never regret that Fate has given her no chance to have anything to regret."

Aunt Mary applauded this speech heartily even if she hadn't quite caught the whole of it and had no idea of whom it was about.

"Who's goin' to speak now?" she asked anxiously.

"I am," said Clover modestly. "I rise to propose the health of our honored guest, Miss Watkins. We all know what kin she is to one of us, and we all weep that she didn't do as well by the rest of us. Aunt Mary! Gla.s.ses down!"

"You can't drink this, you know, Aunt Mary," said Jack,-"it's bad taste to drink to yourself."

"I don't want to drink," said Aunt Mary, beaming,-"I like to watch you."

"Here's to Aunt Mary's liking to watch us!" cried Clover.

"No," said Burnett rising, "don't. It's time to go and get the salad now."

"We'd ought to have the automobile for this party," said Aunt Mary, and everyone applauded her idea, as they rose and gathered up their belongings.

It was a droll procession of men with mice and a lady with a parrot that got under way and moved in among the j.a.panese fans and swinging lanterns of the next room in the suite of Burnett's friend. Five little individual tables were laid there and on each table lay a j.a.panese creature of some sort which-being opened somewhere-revealed salad within.

"Well, I never did!" exclaimed the guest; "this dinner ought to be put in a book!"

"We'll put it in ourselves first," said Mitch.e.l.l. "I never believe in booking any attraction until it has been tried on a select few. Burnett having selected me for one of this few, I vote we begin on the salad."

They began forthwith.

Aunt Mary suddenly stopped eating.

"Some one called," she said.

"It's the parrot," said Jack; "I heard him before."

"What does he say?" said Mitch.e.l.l.

"Listen and you'll find out," said Jack.

They all listened and presently the parrot said solemnly:

"Now see what you've done!" and relapsed into silence.