"And you, Jerry Paxton?"
"I'm afraid you must count me out. You see——"
"I'll do nothing of the kind. You shall make studies for my portrait aboard the yacht and we'll stay out till you're ready to put on paint," the hostess remarked. "When can we start, Crom?"
"Day after to-morrow, if you like."
"What will you do with our chee-ild?" Wally asked his wife.
"Oh, bother! I forgot her. Isabelle is coming home to-morrow for three weeks. She got into a scrape and she's suspended."
"Bring her along," said Mrs. Brendon promptly.
"Bless you, I will. What a way to keep Isabelle quiet," said her mother.
"What a way to spoil the quiet for the rest of us!" groaned her father.
"We'll troll her along behind the yacht, if she's a nuisance," Mrs. Wally consoled him.