“Never mind about Burnett,” said Mitchell, “but do relieve my mind about Aunt Mary. Is the one sheet still taking effect, or has she begun to rally on a diet of two?”
“She’s asleep,” said the nephew.
“God bless her slumber,” declared Clover piously. “I very much approve of Aunt Mary asleep. When our dearly beloved aunt sleeps we know we’ve got her and we don’t have to yell. Shall I deal for three?”
“They are bringing up lunch,” said the latest arrival,—“no time to begin a hand. Better stack guns for the present.”
“So say I,” said Mitchell, “with me everything goes down when lunch comes up. It’s quite the reverse with Burnett, isn’t it?” He laughed brutally at his own wit.
“To think how enthusiastic Burr was,” said Clover, evening the cards preparatory to slipping them into their holder on the side of the table. “He’s always so enthusiastic and he’s always so sick. In his place I should feel that, if a buoyant nature is a virtue, I didn’t get much reward.”
The gong sounded just then, and they all went down to lunch, not at all saddened by the sight of their comrade’s empty chair.
“Now, what are we going to do next?” Clover demanded as they finished the bouillon.
“Have a meat course, I suppose,” said Mitchell.
“I don’t mean that; I mean, what are we going to do next with Aunt Mary?”