"
"You think I indulge in too many?"
"Too many what? Festivals? Puns?"
Medora paused, a bit puzzled.
"Puns? Why, I never, never----Oh, I see!"
"Too many dinners? No. Who could?"
"This one was to be a young people's dinner. I was going to invite you."
"Thanks. Thanks. Thanks."
"Still, if you think my girls are noisy...."
"I was speaking of girls in numbers."
"Well, Bertram Cope didn't find them so."
"Why not?"
"Why not, indeed? They collected in a silent little group behind my
sofa...."
"Puzzled? Awed?"
"Fudge! Well, save Thursday."
"Is he coming?"
"I trust so."
"Then they do need a constabulary to keep them quiet?"
"Oh, hush!"
"How many are you expecting to have? You know I don't enjoy large parties."
"Could you stand ten?"
"I think so."
"Thursday, then," she said, with a definitive hand on the knob of the door.
Randolph went down the front walk with a slight stir of elation--a feeling
that had come to be an infrequent visitor enough. He hoped that the company
would be not only predominantly youthful, but exclusively so--aside from
the hostess and himself.
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