"Oh, well, he is an early turn, now isn't he, Maisie? What did dad say to him?"
"Oh, dad. If beer came from cows, dad would have had plenty to say."
"You're right," agreed Jenny, standing rosy-footed in her nightgown. She gave one critical look at her image in the glass, as if in dreams she meant to meet a lover, then put out all lights and with one leap buried herself in the bedclothes.
On the following afternoon during tea Mr. Trewhella scarcely took his eyes off Jenny.
"Well, how did you enjoy the ballet?" she inquired.
"I don't know so much about the ballet. I was all the time looking for one maid in that great old magic lantern of a place, and when I found her I couldn't see her so well as I wanted. But, darn'ee, I will to-night. William John!"
"Zack!"
"William John, if it do cost a golden guinea to sit down along to-night, we'm going to sit in they handsome chairs close up to the harmony."
"That's all right, boy," chuckled Corin. "We'll sit in the front row."
"That's better," sighed Trewhella, much relieved by this announcement.