“Oh, Barry!” exclaimed Phyllis. “How much?”
“Five days, five whole days.”
“Humph! It's the least they could do. They might have made it ten,” grumbled Paula.
“Mr. Howland, may I speak to you a moment?” Barry's look and voice were eloquent of resolve.
“Certainly, Barry. Immediately?”
“If you please, sir.”
They retired to a corner, where Barry could be seen with ardent look and vehement gesture putting his proposition to Mr. Howland, whose face showed mingled pleasure and perplexity. The others waited patiently for the conference to end.
“Oh, pshaw!” said Paula, “Barry ought to know by this time that the pater simply can't make up his mind without me. I know what they are at.”
She moved over to them.
“Now, father, of course you will do as Barry wishes,” she declared. “Oh, I know what he wants. Now listen to me. Just wire Mrs. Vincent that everything is perfectly all right, that you can guarantee Barry, and that it's the sensible thing, the only thing to do under the circumstances. Oh, we'll have it in that dear little church. Splendid. Perfectly ripping! Eh, Phyllis? Come over here at once. Now, father, get busy on the wire. Why waste a perfectly good hour in just talking about it? What do you say, folks? How many say 'Ay'?”