"Splendid!" agreed Myrna. "You will, won't you, Jean?"
"I?" said Jean, in sudden dismay. He, to eat with the grand monde! But perhaps he had not understood—they would give him lunch with Jules and Nanette and Marie-Louise. He had heard Nanette make that very plain to Marie-Louise a little while ago. "I—I have my dinner with me," he stammered, and pointed to a paper parcel in the stern of the boat. "I will be ready when mademoiselle and monsieur are ready."
"Oh, will you?" laughed Henry Bliss. "Well, I guess not! You'll come up and lunch with Myrna and me."
"No," said Jean, embarrassed, "I—"
"Yes, you will," insisted Henry Bliss.
"Why, Jean," expostulated Myrna, "of course you will, we—" she stopped abruptly. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "I think I know! It's what that stupid Nanette said to Marie-Louise about sitting at table with us, isn't it?"
"What's that?" demanded Henry Bliss quickly. "What has Marie-Louise to do with—h'm—yes—I remember"—his face screwed up perplexedly. "Her fiancé, she said—h'm—yes—it is a bit awkward, isn't it?"
"It's nothing of the kind!" declared Myrna, and, with a laugh, possessed herself of the paper parcel from the boat. "It's quite a different matter. If only half of what father has said is true, Jean, it would be an honour for any one to have Jean Laparde as a guest. And anyway I've got your lunch now!" She waved it in the air, threatening him merrily with it; then turned, and ran toward the house. "You come when you're called, sir!" she flung back over her shoulder, laughing again.