A letter from James Stuart, in the same mail with one twice its length
from Jeannette Crofton, caused them to hasten their date of sailing by a
week in order to be in time for a great event. Stuart wrote
characteristically:

You simply have to come home, George, and help me through it. Of
course I knew from the first I'd have to face a big city wedding,
but the actual fact rather daunts me. Of course it's all right, for
we know Jean's mother would never be satisfied to let me have her
at all except by way of the white-glove route. The white gloves
don't scare me so much as the orchids, and I suppose my new tailor
will turn me out a creditable figure. But if I can't have you and
Dr. Jeff Craig there I don't believe I can stand the strain.

The worst of it is that after all that show I can only take her
back to the old farm. Not that she minds; in fact, she seems to be
crazy about that farm. But it certainly does sound to me like a
play called "From Orchids to Dandelions."

So, for heaven's sake, come home in time! The date's had to be
shoved up on account of some great-aunt who intends to leave Jean
her fortune some day if she isn't offended now, and the nice old
lady wants to start for the Far East the day after the date she
sets for our affair.

"Of course we must go," Craig agreed. "We'll stand by the dear fellow
till the last orchid has withered--if they use orchids at June weddings,
which I doubt. As for the dandelions, I think there's small fear that
Jean won't like them. I fully believe in her sincerity, and I'm prepared
to see her astonish her family by her devotion to country life. Stuart's
able to keep her in real luxury, from the rural point of view, as I
understand it, and she will bring him a lot of fresh enthusiasm that
will do him a world of good."

"I'm trying to imagine Jimps's June-tanned face above a white shirt
front," mused Georgiana. "He'll be a perfect Indian shade by that time."

"Not more so than any young tennis or golf enthusiast, will he?"

"Oh, much more. Jimps is out in the sun from dawn till sundown; his very
eyebrows get a russet shade. But of course that doesn't matter, and his
splendid shoulders certainly do fill out a dress coat to great
advantage. You don't mind being considered one of his best friends by a
young farmer, do you? That's the way he feels about you."

"I consider it a great honour. I never was better pleased than when
Stuart firs