"What rot--as if I could. Jerce keeps me at work, I can tell you. I scarcely have a minute to myself."
"And the minutes you have are given to other people than your sister," said Clarice, dryly.
"Ho! ho!" Ferdinand chuckled. "Jealous of Prudence."
"No! I should like to see you married to Prudence. She would keep you in order."
"Bosh! Jerce does that."
"I doubt it, after what he told me last night."
Knife and fork fell from Ferdinand's hands, and his rosy complexion became as white as the snow out of doors. "Wh-a-t--what--did he tell you?" he quavered, while Clarice looked at him, astonished.
"Only that you are a trifle wild," she hastened to explain. "Why should you look so alarmed?"
"I'm--I'm not alarmed," denied Baird, and absently wiped his forehead with his napkin. "That is, of course if Jerce talks about my being wild to you, and you speak to Prudence, she'll give me the go-by, like a shot. Prudence is awfully jealous."
"I'm not in the habit of telling tales," said Clarice, dryly.