s sulking, as usual. And all because I insisted on
writing to Oggie! Then there was something about the servants. I
don't know, only things went wrong at breakfast, and some of them have
threatened to leave. Who cares? Yesterday it was about the tennis
court. What if he did telegraph to have it laid out? I couldn't play
when I found I hadn't brought any tennis shoes, could I? Besides,
there's no fun playing against Nick, he's such a shark. He didn't like
it, either, because I wouldn't use the baby golf course. But I will
with you. Come on."

"I never did much putting," says I.

"Nor I," says she; "but we can try."

Three or four holes was enough for her, though, and then she has a new
idea. "You rag, don't you?" says she.

"Only a few tango steps," says I. "My feet stutter."

"Then I'll show you how," says she. "We have some dandy records, and
the veranda's just right."

So what does she do but tow me back to the house, ring up a couple of
maids to clear away all the rugs and chairs, and push the music machine
up to the open window.

"Put on that 'Too Much Mustard,' Annette," says she, "and keep it
going."

Must have surprised Annette some, as I hadn't been accounted for; but a
little thing like that don't bother Robbie. She gives me the proper
grip for the onestep,--which is some close clinch, believe me!--cuddles
her fluffy head down on my necktie, and off we goes.

"No, don't try to trot," says she. "Just balance and keep time, and
swing two or three times at the turn. Keep your feet apart, you know.
Now back me. Swing! There, you're getting it. Keep on!"

Some spieler, Robbie; and whether or not that was just a josh about
orchids bein' invented for her, there's no doubt but what ragtime was.
Yes, yes, that's where she lives. And me? Well, I can't say I hated
it. With her coachin' me, and that snappy music goin', I caught the
idea quick enough, and first I knew we was workin' in new variations
that she'd suggest, doin' the slow toe pivot, the kitchen sink, and a
lot more.

We stopped long enough to have tea and cakes served, and then Robbie
insists on tryin' some new stunts. There's a sidewise dip, where you
twist your partner around like you was tryin' to break her back over a
chair, and we was right in the midst of practisin' that when who should
show up but the happy bridegroom. And someway I've seen 'em look more
pleased.

[Illustration: We was right in the midst of practi