“Won’t you both come? You could help me so much.”
“We can’t get off,” declared the practical Kelly.
“Yes, you can. My father said that I could invite whom I pleased.” She turned pleadingly to Mr. Jones. “You’ll come and bring Mr. Kelly, won’t you?”
The victim of disaster was as one hypnotized by the charm of her presence. Before the wiles of women, his gallant soul became as putty. Mr. Jones stammered, he stuttered, he blushed–and from his lips came the whispered answer, “Yes, Ma’am.”
CHAPTER XI
OLD HEARTS MADE YOUNG
Nature left nothing to be desired in the weather as the hour approached for the concert at the Lucinda Home. Over the closely shaven lawn and beneath the shade of the trees lay the tranquillity of a summer’s afternoon.
This was disturbed, shortly after lunch, by the roaring of the Dale car as it rushed up the curving driveway to the main building. It was driven by Ike, and Serena sat beside him in the purity of apparel, freshly laundered and starched.
But, even at this hour, the aged ladies had retired to their apartments to make ready for the gaieties of the late afternoon.
The coming of the Dale car was the beginning of a series of commotions in this haven of peace. A big army truck arrived with a noise of thunder bringing trestles and plank for a temporary band stand. It stopped, and through the balmy silence sounded a rough, coarse, masculine voice, “Where in the devil do they want this blame thing?” Answered his companion, “You can search me.”