"Certainly, Aunt Love, that is my rule still. I never break it."
"Whose birthday is this?" demanded Miss Berry, somewhat taken back.
"How should I know? Somebody's, surely." Jack looked up innocently. "I never show favoritism."
"Oh!" groaned Gorham, rising. "I can't stay here. Discipline him, Aunt Love. I am going to my uncontaminated roof-tree."
"Let us all take Gorham home," suggested Jack, also rising. "I'm afraid to be left here with Aunt Love's righteous wrath. Come, all of you. Nobody is too tired to walk to that music."
For the band on the hotel piazza was playing the Washington Post March, which by midsummer was running neck and neck with "After the Ball."
"Come, Robert," said Hilda, shaking the somnolent form in the hammock.
"Hey? What? Don't disturb me. I can die here as well as anywhere. What! Walk home with Gorham? Do you take me for an idiot? Music and moonlight!" with deep scorn. "Oh, go to! Woman, stand aside, or I shall do you an injury. Don't tempt a desperate man."
"Dear Robert doesn't seem to care to come with us," laughed Mildred sotto voce to Jack. She was determined that none other than he should walk by her side to the hotel, and of course she had her way.
An hour later she came into Clover's bedroom, brushing her long hair. Her white wrapper fell open at the neck, disclosing her handsome throat, and she looked particularly beautiful to her partial sister.