"Our guest and good friend, Mr. McCarthy, wishes to make an announcement," she said, then sat down.
Jane's father got up, his face very red, his forehead glistening with beads of perspiration.
"Your guest and good friend most emphatically does not wish to make an announcement," declared the visitor. "But it is up to him to do so because he wishes to please that fine woman, your Chief Guardian—is that what you call yourself, Mrs. Livingston? I get all mixed up with various names and titles. It's as bad as attending a reception of the royal family, judging from what I've heard."
Mrs. Livingston nodded, smiling good-naturedly.
"Well, girls, you know I've got to do something to furnish that mad-cap daughter of mine with a variety of means of ending her life and those of her friends. She has exhausted everything thus far. However, this is a perfectly safe proposition, this one that I have planned for you and her, and I don't think any of you can get into serious difficulty through it."
"Don't keep us in suspense, Dad! Tommy will suffocate if you don't tell us now. She has been holding her breath ever since you began speaking," cried Jane.
A ripple of laughter ran along both sides of the table, but quickly subsided when Mr. McCarthy again began speaking.
"Very good, if you must know. But—I say, Mrs. Livingston, I think we won't tell them until to-morrow. As I think it over, I guess I won't tell them after all. They'll know all about it when it gets here. That's all." Mr. McCarthy sat down, wiping his forehead and looking vastly relieved.
A chorus of "Ohs!" greeted the announcement. "Please, please tell us, oh, do," they begged, but the visitor shook his head.
"I think, Mr. McCarthy, that I had better tell them if you do not wish to. They will be too much upset otherwise," said the Chief Guardian. "Have I your permission?"