a compendious, "He's the most
killingly, screamingly funny little man that ever lived!"

"Now, _ladies_," implored Madame Boyle, "one more row--not solid--just a
soupcon--"

CHAPTER XIV

MID-SEASON NERVES

"If I should wait and read my paper here instead of on the cars, do you
suppose Lydia would be up before I left?" asked the Judge as he put his
napkin in the ring and pushed away from the breakfast table.

Mrs. Emery looked up, smiling, from a letter, "'Of course such a great
favorite as Miss Emery,'" she read aloud, "'will be hard to secure, but
both the Governor and I feel that our party wouldn't be complete without
her. We're expecting a number of other Endbury young people.' And do you
know who writes that?" she asked triumphantly of her husband.

"How should I?" answered the Judge reasonably.

"Mrs. Ex-Governor Mallory, to be sure. It's their annual St. Valentine's
day house-party at their old family estate in Union County."

The Judge got up, laughing. "Old family estate," he mocked.

"They are one of the oldest and best families in this State," cried his
wife.

"The Governor's an old blackguard," said her husband tolerantly.

"The Mallorys--the Hollisters--Lydia is certainly," began Mrs. Emery,
complacently.

Lydia's father laughed again. "Oh, with you and Flora Burgess as manager
and press agent--! You haven't answered my question about whether if I
waited and--"

"No, she wouldn't," said Mrs. Emery decisively. "After dancing so late
nights, I want her to sleep every minute she's not wanted somewhere. _I_
have the responsibility of looking after her health, you know. I hope
she'll sleep now till just time to get up and dress for Marietta's
lunch-party at one o'clock."

The father of the family frowned. "Is Marietta giving another
lunch-party for Lydia? They can't afford to do so much. Marietta's--"

"This is a great chance for Marietta--poor girl! she hasn't many such
chances--Lydia's carrying everything before her so, I mean."

"How does Marietta get into the game?" asked her father obtusely.

Mrs. Emery hesitated a scarcely perceptible instant, a hesitation
apparently illuminating to her husband. He laughed again, the tolerant,
indifferent laugh he had for his women-folks' goings-on. "She thinks she
can go up as the tail to Lydia's kite, does she? She'd better not be too
sure. If I don't miss my guess, Paul'll have a word or two to say about
carrying extra weight. Gosh! Marietta