"
"Yes," said Mitchell 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 Mitchell; "I, too, am fired by this exposition of pluck. I
like spirit. She reminds me of the horse who was turned out to grass and
then suddenly broke the world's record."
"What horse was that?" asked Burnett.
"Pegasus," said Mitchell 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.
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