inks a couple of times as the picture forms on the screen.
"That's so," says he. "She would."

"Then gimme that blank," says I. "Now here, how's this, 'Have at last
arranged things so we can come. Charmed to accept'? Eh?"

"But--but there's Baby's milk," objects Ferdie. "Marjorie always watches
the nurse sterilize it, you know."

"Do up a gallon before you leave," says I.

"It's such a puzzling place to get to, though," says Ferdie. "I'm sure
we'd never get on the right train."

"Whadye mean, train," says I. "Ah, show some class! Go in your
limousine."

"So we could," says Ferdie. "But then, you know, they'll be expectin' us
to bring an extra young man."

"They needn't be heartbroken over that," says I. "You didn't say who he
was, did you?"

"Why, no," says Ferdie; "but----"

"Since you press me so hard," says I, "I'll sub for him. Guess you need
me to get you there, anyway."

"By Jove!" says Ferdie, as the proposition percolates through the
hominy. "I wonder if----"

"Never waste time wonderin'," says I. "Take a chance. Here, sign your
name to that; then we'll go hunt up Marjorie and tell her the glad
news."

Ferdie was still in a daze when we found the other three-quarters of the
sketch, and Marjorie was some set back herself when I springs the
scheme. But she's a good sport, Marjorie is, and if she was hooked up to
a live one she'd travel just as lively as the next heavyweight.

"Oh, let's!" says she, clappin' her hands. "You know we haven't been
away from home overnight for an age. And Edna Pulsifer's such a dear,
even if her father is a grouchy old thing. We'll take Torchy along too.
What do you say, Ferdie?"

Foolish question! Ferdie was still dazed. And anyhow she had said it
herself.

So that's how it happens I'm one of the chosen few to be landed under
the Cedarholm porte-cochere that Saturday afternoon. Course the
Pulsifers ain't reg'lar old fam'ly people, like Ferdie's folks. They
date back to about the last Broadway horse-car period, I understand,
when old Adam K. begun to ship his Cherryola dope in thousand-case lots.
Now, you know, it's all handled for him by the drug trust, and he only
sits by the safety-vault door watchin' the profits roll in. But with his
name still on every label you could hardly expect the Pulsifers to
qualify for Mrs. Astor's list.

Seems Edna went to the same boardin' school as Marjorie and Vee, though,
and neither of 'em ever thinks of throwin' Cherryola at he