"Quite right," said Skinner, "I had not."
"What are we going to do?"
"I have no plans. I suppose we'll sit in our rooms or go to the theater."
"Well," said Honey, "it beats me."
On reading the morning paper, Mrs. J. Matthews Wilkinson said to her husband, "They're here—the Skinners—Jennie Colby's friends, you know. We must have them to dinner."
"When?" said Wilkinson, looking up from his paper.
"I dare say they'll be here but a short time. Better make it to-night."
"You're the doctor," said Wilkinson, resuming his paper.
"We'll send out a hurry call for the Armitages and the Bairds and the Wendells," said Mrs. Wilkinson, mentally running over her list of the most select of St. Paul's inner circle. "We'll show these people that we're not barbarians out here."
"Can you corral all those folks for to-night? Is n't it rather sudden, my dear?"