“To give a house party without the owner’s knowledge or consent is going pretty far; there might be legal complications,” he suggested seriously.
“Timidity doesn’t go in the adventurous life. And besides,” she added calmly, “that matter doesn’t concern us in the least. If they all get arrested it’s so much the better for the plot. We can’t hope for anything as grand as that!”
“But how about you! What if you should be discovered and go to jail! Imagine my feelings!”
“Oh, you’re not to worry about me. That’s my professional risk.”
“Then, as to the place, what objection is there to choosing Senator Banning’s house? He’s in the cast anyhow. His place, I believe, hasn’t been occupied for a couple of years. The gates were nailed up the last time I passed there.”
She laughed at this suggestion rather more merrily than she had laughed before.
“That’s a capital idea! Particularly as we’ve chosen him for his lack of humor!”
“If he has any fun in him he’ll have a chance to show it,” said Farrington, “when he finds his house filled with people he never saw before.”
Questions of taste as to this procedure, hanging hazily at the back of his consciousness, were dispelled by Arabella’s mirthful attitude toward the plan. He could hardly tell this joyous young person that it would be transcending the bounds of girlish naughtiness to telegraph a lot of people she didn’t know to meet at the house of a gentleman who enjoyed national fame for his lack of humor. Arabella would only laugh at him. The delight that danced in her eyes was infectious and the spirit of adventure possessed him. He was impatient for the outcome: still, would she—dared she—do it?
She had drawn on a pair of tan gloves and struck her hands together lightly.