"Not in the same pew with your aunt and father," rejoined Blake. "It'd take a larger pew than was ever made, to hold them and me."
"Oh, but you must come, Tom. You'll enjoy the music. Here they are now."
"O-ho, Vievie, you in here?" called Dolores, and she darted in upon them. "Goodness! who's the man? Why, it's Mr. Blake. Hail to the hero!"
She pirouetted down to them and shook Blake's hand vigorously, chattering her fastest. "You can't imagine how glad I am to see you. I've had less than half of Jeems, with mamma butting in all the way over. Of course he'll sit between her and Vievie. If you'll come along as my own particular, I'll feed you on chocolates and keep you nudged during the sermon."
"Oh, but I say, Miss Gantry, those were to be my chocolates," protested
Lord James from the doorway.
"Hello," said Blake. "So you're the man, are you? Better look out.
First thing you know, you'll get roped."
"Roped? What's that?" demanded Dolores.
"Ask Jeems," laughed Blake.
"Er—seems to me I've heard the expression in relation to the term 'steer,'" observed Lord James.
"Oh, something to do with a ship," said the girl.