with. We'll plan that a little later. Now I think, Aunt Grace,
lovely, it would be nice for you to wear your lavender lace gown, and
look delicate, don't you? A chaperoning auntie in poor health is so
aristocratic. You must wear the lavender satin slippers and have a
bottle of cologne to lift frequently to your sensitive nostrils."

"Why, Carol, William wouldn't like it!"

"Wouldn't like it!" ejaculated the schemer in surprise. "Wouldn't like
it! Why wouldn't he like it? Didn't he tell us to create a good
impression? Well, this is it. You'll make a lovely semi-invalid auntie.
You must have a faintly perfumed handkerchief to press to your eyes now
and then. It isn't hot enough for you slowly to wield a graceful fan,
but we can get along without it."

"But, Carol--"

"Think how pleased dear father will be if his old college chum's son is
properly impressed," interrupted Carol hurriedly, and proceeded at once
with her plans.

"Connie must be a precocious younger sister, all in white,--she must
come in late with a tennis racquet, as though she had just returned from
a game. That will be stagey, won't it? Lark must be the sweet young
daughter of the home. She must wear her silver mull, her gray slippers,
and--"

"I can't," said Lark. "I spilt grape juice on it. And I kicked the toe
out of one of my slippers."

"You'll have to wear mine then. Fortunately that silver mull was always
too tight for me and I never comported myself in it with freedom and
destructive ease. As a consequence, it is fresh and charming. You must
arrange your hair in the most _Ladies' Home Journal_ style, and--"

"What are you going to wear?"

"Who, me? Oh, I have other plans for myself." Carol looked rather
uneasily at her aunt. "I'll come to me a little later."

"Yes, indeed," said Connie. "Carol has something extra up her sleeve.
She's had the millionaire's son in her mind's eye ever since father
introduced his pocketbook into the conversation."

Carol was unabashed. "My interest is solely from a family view-point. I
have no ulterior motive."

Her eyes sparkled eagerly. "You know, auntie darling--"

"Now, Carol, don't you suggest anything--"

"Oh, no indeed, dearest, how could you think of such a thing?"
disclaimed Carol instantly. "It's such a very tiny thing, but it will
mean a whole lot on the general impression of a millionaire's son. We've
simply got to have a maid! To open the door, and curtesy, and take his
hat, and serve th