"Yes, with what the sailormen would call a trim craft. Eh, Jeems?" chuckled Blake.
"You're laughing at me!" accused the girl. "To make up for it, you'll have to come and hold my prayer-book for me. Just think!—a real hero to hold my prayer-book!"
"Excuse me!" objected Blake. "I don't know the places."
"Never mind. We can study the styles quite as well. Vievie, let's hurry on. Mamma has gone up to rout out Uncle Herbert. They'll be late—as usual."
"Well, then, I'll clear the track," said Blake. "Take good care of
Jeems for me. Good-bye, Miss Jenny."
"Don't leave, Tom," replied Genevieve. "If you do not wish to go to the
Cathedral—"
"We'll all stay home," cut in Dolores.
"What's this about staying home?" came the voice of Mrs. Gantry from the hall.
"Quick, Mr. Blake!" exclaimed Dolores in a stage whisper. "Hide behind me. I'm taller than Vievie."
Her mother came in upon them in time to catch Blake's broadest grin.
"Stay at home, indeed! Such a delightful day as—Ah!"