"I got to my feet in a blaze of fury, holding my gown on with both hands—"
"Cissy!"
"And he gave one horror-stricken look and ran—"
Swaying there together in the deserted dining-room, they gave way to uncontrolled laughter. Laughter rang out from the living-room, too, where Gray was informing Mrs. Cardross and Hamil of the untoward climax to a spring-time wooing; and when Shiela and Cecile came in the latter looked suspiciously at Hamil, requesting to know the reason of his mirth.
"Somebody will have to whisper it to you in rhyme," said Hamil; "it's not fit for prose, Cissy."
Mrs. Cardross retired early. Gray went for a spin in his motor. Cecile, mischievously persuaded that Hamil desired to have Shiela to himself for half an hour, stifled her yawns and bedward inclinations and remained primly near them until Gray returned.
Then the four played innocuous Bridge whist until Cecile's yawns could no longer be disguised; and finally Gray rose in disgust when she ignored the heart-convention and led him an unlovely spade.
"How many kinds of a chump can you be in one day?" asked her wrathful brother.
"Pons longa, vita brevis," observed Hamil, intensely amused. "Don't sit on her, Gray."
"O dear! O dear!" said Cecile calmly, "I'd rather be stepped on again than sat on like that!"