"Why, they aren't coming here, are they?" I gasped, sitting up.
"They are, if you will invite them. Of course I have nowhere to entertain them, in return for all they did for me, and I thought possibly you would ask them here for a fortnight, but since I have seen how you live—unless, perhaps, you would be willing to be smartened up a bit?"
Bee looked distinctly hopeful.
"What would you suggest?" I asked, huskily.
Bee cleared her throat in a pleased way.
"First of all, let me be assured that I will not be embarrassing you," she said, politely. "You can afford to—to branch out a little?"
"Yes," I said. But my pleasure in the admission was not keen.
"Then," said Bee, "I would advise a coachman and a footman in livery. I know just where two excellent Englishmen can be got. Then you want all this made into lawns. You want to exercise the horses more, and have their tails docked. And above all you want a victoria."
"We have got that," I said. "I was going to surprise you with it. It came this morning."
"Where is it?" cried Bee, standing up and shaking out her gown.