s wake she heard the
murmur of women's voices--Caroline's and Betty's.

"I heard you were in difficulties," Dick said, "so I made Sister Betty
and Caroline give up their perfectly good trip into the country, in
order to come around and mix in."

"I didn't know Betty was going driving with you," Nancy said. "She
didn't say so. Oh! Dick, there isn't any dinner. I forgot all about
it. This is Mr. Collier Pratt and his little daughter,--Mr. Richard
Thorndyke. She's coming to live with me soon, I hope, and let Hitty
take care of her."

The two men shook hands.

"Hold on a minute," Dick said, "that paragraph is replete with
interest, but I want to get it assimilated. Sure, Betty was going
driving with me. I told her to ask you if she thought it would be any
use, but she allowed it wouldn't. I am delighted to meet Mr. Pratt,
and pleased to know that his daughter is coming to live with you, but
isn't that rather sudden? Also, what's this about there not being any
dinner?"

"There isn't," Nancy was beginning, when she realized that Caroline
and Betty, who had followed closely on Dick's footsteps, were looking
at her with faces pale with consternation and alarm. She could see the
anticipatory collapse of Outside Inn writ large on Caroline's
expressive countenance. Caroline was the type of girl who believed
that in the very nature of things the undertakings of her most
intimate friends were doomed to failure. "There isn't any dinner yet,"
Nancy corrected herself, "but you go up to my place, Dick, and get
Hitty. Tell her she's got to cook dinner for this restaurant to-night.
She can cook three courses of anything she likes, and have _carte
blanche_ in the kitchen. You have more influence with her than
anybody, so, no matter what she says, make her do it. Then when she
decides what she wants to cook, drive her around until she collects
her ingredients. She won't let anybody do the marketing for her."

"All right," Dick said, "I'll do my best."

"You'll have to do more than that," Betty laughed as he started off,
"but you're perfectly capable of it. How do you do, Mr. Pratt? This is
Miss Eustace, pale with apprehension about the way things are going,
but still recognizable and answering to her name." Betty always
enjoyed introducing Caroline with an audacious flourish, since
Caroline always suffered so much in the process.

"And this is little Miss Sheila Pratt," Nancy supplemented.

"_Enchante_," the little girl said, "I