"Just an ordinary Chicago production," said Jack exultantly. "What do you say, old Reliable?" he added, turning toward Gorham.
"We are in great luck," returned the latter.
"Now, I will admit," said Jack, "that I have been trying to provide for us all at the Chicago Beach; but I will cease my struggles gratefully."
"When do you want to go, Hilda?" asked Robert Page.
"When can you go, is a more pertinent question," she answered.
"July will, I suppose, be the best time. Would it be heresy, Jack, to inquire if the thermometer in Chicago rises above sixty-five degrees in July? I have understood that it does."
"I know of no city in the country where there is no hot weather in summer," returned Jack shortly. "Chicago is, however, a summer resort."
"I suppose you mean a place where summer resorts. That is what I have heard."
"Perhaps you would better not risk your life there."
"Tut, tut, my boy. I am going to see the writer of that whole-souled letter."