"One bell, Captain Polly! You'll carry away your landing stage if you come head on at full speed."
"Oh, Shortie! Shortie! Where did you come from?" cried Polly, nearly pumping his arm from its socket, while all the others crowded around to welcome the big fellow whom all had loved or esteemed during his undergraduate days.
"Ask the Little Mother. She's responsible, and Gail needs looking after among all this bunch, I know. Come along, young lady. I've got to see you fed and cared for."
And Gail seemed perfectly willing to "come along."
With such an addition to her family, Mrs. Harold had made arrangements to have two large round tables reserved for her in the smaller of the two dining-rooms, the older people at one, with Gail, Stella, Juno, Shortie, Allyn and Guy to make the circle, the younger people with Peggy and Polly as hostesses at the adjoining table. In addition to her own regular waiter, the second head waiter and two assistants had been detailed to serve, but with the Christmas rush and the number of people at Wilmot for the holidays there was more or less delay between courses.
"Where is John?" she demanded, as they were waiting for the salad.
"Over yonder. Shall I hail him?" asked Durand, from the next table, promptly putting his fingers to his mouth as though to give one of the ear-splitting whistles which seem to carry for miles.
"If you dare, you scape-grace, right here in this dining-room!" she warned.
"Oh, do it!" cried Polly. "I want to learn how. Show me."
"All right; stick out your tongue," directed Durand and Polly promptly fell into the trap, though unluckily she happened to be looking straight past Durand at the moment, and what proved more embarrassing, right at a table occupied by Foxy Grandpa, Helen and Lily Pearl, whom Mrs. Harold had not yet met, so, of course, did not recognize. (Helen and Lily did not mean to lose sight of Peggy and Polly if they could help it.)