"I told her about my sister. I have not mentioned you or your friend yet. Of course I will do that as soon as I am sure of you both."
"Well," said Barker, "if you don't mind, perhaps you might write a note to the Doctor. He might be shy of accepting an invitation by word of mouth. Do you mind?"
"Not in the least," said the Englishman; "give me a rag of paper and a quill, and I'll do it now."
And he accordingly did it, and directed the invitation to Claudius, Phil.D., and Barker pushed it into the crack of the door leading to the apartment where the Doctor was sleeping, lest it should be forgotten.
The next morning Claudius appeared with the Duke's note in his hand.
"What does this mean?" he asked. "I hardly know him at all, and here he asks me to cross the Atlantic in his yacht. I wish you would explain."
"Keep your hair on, my young friend," replied Mr. Barker jocosely. "He has asked you and me because his party would not be complete without us."
"And who are 'the party'?"
"Oh, very small. Principally his sister, I believe. Hold on though, Miss Skeat is going."
"Miss Skeat?" Claudius anticipated some chaff from his friend, and knit his brows a little.