“How do you like being in another boy’s shoes?” Billie asked, as they turned in the direction of the boat-house.
“It’s rather jolly having plenty of clothes and nothing to do but amuse myself; but I’d just as soon live at the foot of Mount Etna as take a permanent job with my present grandmamma.
“Nonsense,” said Billie, “I believe you will find her all right if she learns to respect you. She has no respect for her grandchildren. That’s why she bullies them with her cane.”
Stretched on the cushioned seat of the Firefly, they found the other Edward gazing at the stars, the very picture of contentment.
“Hello,” he exclaimed, looking up as he stifled a yawn. “How’s the party?”
“Fine!” answered Edward l’Estrange.
“I wish you could have come, too,” said Billie.
“Thanks, but I’m much happier here. I hate dancing. It always gives me palpitation. The lights hurt my eyes, too, in a ball-room. I’m just as well off here.”
Billie gave a humorous groan.
“Dear me, what a delicate invalid you are,” she laughed.