"Not unless the colonel gets a transfer. I'm steering the navy, not the army," laughed Ralston.
"The man behind!" murmured Mrs. Vokes.
Ralston bowed. "Very good, Mrs. Vokes," said he. "Yes, too far behind!"
"The navy, of course," Miss Evarts corrected herself, letting fall a lump of sugar and following it with an attenuated rivulet of cream. "Just a drop, as usual?"
"Did you read the President's proclamation?" asked a young girl in a gray picture hat. "Wasn't it splendid?"
"Mr. Ralston will probably write the next one," interjected another.
"No, only correct the proof," amended the hostess.
"And point it with 'Maxims'?" ventured the Vokes, now restored to complete good humor.
"Very sweet of you, Mrs. Vokes," said Ralston, recognizing the artificial dove of theatrical peace.
"You leave very soon, don't you, colonel?" asked Miss Evarts. "Is your kit-bag ready?"