"Why didn't you bring him home with you?"
"Same reason he couldn't take me home with him. There were people waiting, and turkey, and—but he won't want to go," I added. "He's crazy about a girl down there!"
"Fiddlesticks," my father chuckled. "Any normal fellow'll want to cruise! I'll wire him myself—this very night!"
Bilkins entered with the tray, wishing us a happy new year. Outside the whistles were beginning to blow. After we had pledged each other, and drunk to 1919, the Mater, a light of challenge in her eyes, looked at me and gave another toast:
"To a cruise and an adventure, Jack!"
"To romance," Dad cried, gallantly raising her fingers to his lips.
There was no use being a wet blanket, so with a laugh I said:
"To adventure and romance!—Mater, if they're still on earth I'll bring them home to you!"
I knew it was a very silly toast, but let it go to please them—for why disillusion those who believe in the actuality of nonexistence?