She folded and addressed it carefully.
“Here it is.”
“What do I get for running the blockade for you like this?” he inquired.
“Much obliged, Wally,” she answered, returning to her chair and her book.
“You don’t appreciate me!” he protested.
“Yes, I do, Wally. I like you the best of all my parents.”
Upon her subsequent release, Isabelle turned her entire attention to a continuous presentation of the “Idylls.” Every day the story progressed, and it would have occupied her abilities for some time, save for an accident.
The company, including Tommy Page and Teddy Horton, had gathered at Margie Hunter’s, where there was a swimming pool. Isabelle planned to stage a scene with herself as “Elaine, the fair, the beautiful,” floating in the Hunters’ canoe, laboriously carried up from the shore by the entire company.
They launched the craft, and laid out Elaine, with flowers about her, hastily plucked from the garden, and the play was all ready to go on, when Herbert’s crowd came by, on the way to a baseball match. At the arresting sight of the Lily Maid of Astelot, they halted and demanded explanations. These were received with exclamations of derision and delight, so that the incensed leading lady rose from her barge, landed, and pursued them with the canoe paddle. They gave her a race to the baseball diamond, where they disarmed her by force, and forgot her.
She sat down and watched their preparations. She heard their mighty oaths against the ninth man of the team, who hadn’t “showed up.” She offered to play, but they jeered at the idea. Herbert Hunter urged her acceptance as a sub, saying that they could throw her out when the regular fellow came.