"I'm not," announced Daisy. "I'm going to make a straight dive for the breakfast room. Come with me, Bill, and see that I get enough to eat."
Roger, Mona, and the Kenerleys were going for an ocean dip, and Laurence Cromer, who was a late riser, had not yet put in an appearance. Aunt Adelaide was with Patty, hearing all about the adventure, so Bill was obliged to accept Daisy's rather peremptory invitation.
"What's the matter with you, Bill?" asked the girl, as she threw off her motor coat and sat at the table in her low-necked party gown.
"Nothing. I say, Daisy, why don't you go and get into some togs more suitable for 9 A.M.?"
"Because I'm hungry. Yes, James, omelet, and some of the fried chicken.
Bill, don't you like me any more?"
"Yes, of course I do. But you ought to act more,—more polite, you know."
"Oh, fiddlesticks! You mean more finicky,—like that paragon, Patty. You think she's perfect, because she never raises her voice above a certain pitch, and she expects all you men to lie down and let her walk over you."
"She MAY walk over me, if she likes; and I want you to stop speaking of her in that slighting way, Daisy."
"Oh, you do, do you? And, pray, what right have you to say HOW I shall speak of her?"
"The right that any man has, to take the part of one who is absent."