e two pounds of salted nuts and some
more ice, because she simply knew that they wouldn't have enough.

Ricky dropped the last of the peas into the bowl and leaned back in her
canvas deck-chair. "I'm going to wear green," she murmured dreamily,
"with that leaf thing in my hair. And Charity's going to wear her rose,
the one that swishes when she walks."

"I think I'll appear in saffron," Val announced firmly. "Somehow I feel
like saffron. How about you, Rod?"

The thin, efficient, brown-faced person who was Roderick St. Jean de
Roche Ralestone, to grant him his full name, stretched lazily and
transferred a fistful of Ricky's peas to his mouth, a mouth which was no
longer sullen. At Val's question he raised his shoulders in one of his
French shrugs and considered.

"Yellow, with lilies behind mah ears," he grinned at Ricky. "Bettah give
them somethin' to stare at; they'll all be powerful interested, anyway."

"Yes, the lost viscount," Val agreed. "Of course, you're really only a
Lord like me, but it sounds better to say 'the lost viscount.' You'll
share the limelight with Rupert and the Luck, so you'd better take that
pair of my flannels which haven't turned quite yellow yet."

Rod shook his head. "This time Ah have mah own. Ah went in town shoppin'
yesterday. It's mah turn to share clothes. Youah brothah told me to get
yo' some shirts. So Ah did. Lucy put them in the top drawer."

"Don't tell me," Val begged, aroused by this news, "that we are actually
able to afford some new clothes again?"

Rod nodded and Ricky sat up. "Don't be silly," she said, "we're
comfortably well off. With Rupert writing books, and a lot of oil or
something in the swamp, why, what have we got to worry about? And next
fall Rod's going to college and I'm taking that course in dress
designing and Rupert's going to write another book and--and--" Her
inventive powers failed as Holmes came out on the terrace.

"Hello there." Val glanced at his watch. "I don't want to seem
inhospitable, but you're about four hours too early. We haven't even
crawled into our party duds."

"So I see. But this isn't a social call. By the way, where's Charity?"

"Oh, she went off with Rupert this morning," answered Ricky. "And I
think it was mean of them, running out on us that way, when there was so
much to do."

It seemed to Val that there was a faint shadow of irritation across the
open good nature of Holmes' smile when he heard her answer. "That damsel
is