"No."
"Goodness—I know it well."
"What bothers me is, I'm afraid Mrs. Skinner 'll find it dull. I'm taking her along. You see, I 'll have lots to do, but she does n't know anybody out there."
The social arbiter pondered a moment. "But she should know somebody. Would you mind if I gave her a letter to Mrs. J. Matthews Wilkinson? Very old friend of mine and very dear. You'll find her charming. Something of a bore on family. Her great-grandfather was a kind of land baron out that way."
"It's mighty good of you to do that for Mrs. Skinner."
"Bless you, I'm doing it for you, too. You have n't forgotten that you're a devilish good dancer and you don't chatter all the time?" Then, after a pause, "I'm wishing a good thing on the Wilkinsons, too,"—confidentially,—"for I don't mind telling you I've found Mrs. Skinner perfectly delightful. She's a positive joy to me."
"You're all right, Mrs. Colby."
"That's the talk. Yes, I'm coming along." She waved her hand to Stephen Colby. "When do you go?"
"To-morrow morning."
"I'll send the letter over this afternoon—and if you don't mind, I 'll wire the Wilkinsons that you're coming on."