Kate seemed to know that Blynn would remain later, for she piloted him to the library as a matter of course. Mr. and Mrs. Levering were reading in the alcove in the far end of the big room.
“Let’s ‘owl,’” she suggested. “Owl” was the family name for the family habit of staying up late. “Let’s ‘owl’ and talk. I’m broad awake. What kind of chairs did they have, mother, in ’61? I have the hardest time finding one that fits the hoop.”
She tried several chairs prettily. Certainly that style of apparel increased the helplessness of women, usually a beauty asset.
“Come over here, child,” called the mother, “and I’ll show you a trick.”
The trick consisted in slyly slipping out of the hoops—a kind of detachable understructure—and leaving them in the alcove.
While he waited, Blynn could hear little contagious, intimate laughters from the lawn. Gorgas and Morris were helping McAlley extinguish the Chinese lanterns and, youthlike, were taking their time about it.
“I’m the decoy,” thought Allen, rubbing one palm along the side of the face. “Oh, these children! They fascinate me with their nimble intelligence and their mysterious changes. It’s a great business, dealing in children. They give one an enormous amount of joy—I fancy it’s the best thing I do, after all; but they set me hungering for a pack of my own that won’t desert me when I’ve given them all my toys to play with.... I believe that little minx was flirting with both of us tonight. Trying out her new wings! The gown made her conscious of things. Ah, well,” he yawned.... “Hello! What did you do with the flare-bellows?”
Kate trailed in with a large quantity of subdued skirt.
“I took the machinery out.... Now! I can sit comfortably at last. Oh! I’m tired.”
She dropped among a lot of cushions in front of him.