“But we can’t vote until you come in,” explained Mrs. Fenelby. “We haven’t a quorum until you come in. You are States, and we can’t do anything until you come in.”
“Did you try?” asked Billy, just as cheerfully as before. “We don’t want to vote. We are comfortable out here. If we must vote, bring your congress out here.”
“Billy, I would if I could,” said Mrs. Fenelby,“but I can’t! Bobberts has to be present, and he can’t be brought out into the night air.”
Kitty half rose from the hammock. She felt to see that her hair was in order.
“Come on, Billy,” she said. “Be accommodating,” and they went in.
It was necessary to bring Bobberts down from the nursery, and Mrs. Fenelby brought him in, limp and sleeping, and sat with him in her arms. Mr. Fenelby explained why the meeting was called.
“It is because Laura and I are tired of this tariff nonsense,” he explained. “You and Kitty have seen how it works—everybody in the house mad at one another—”
“Not Billy and I,” interposed Kitty. “Are we Billy?”
“Let us, for the sake of argument, suppose we are,” said Billy. “We must give Tom a fair chance. It is his tariff, not ours.”
“Very well,” said Kitty; “we are all angry! Let us quarrel!”