Mrs. Cardross smiled and took Hamil's hand flat between her fair, pudgy palms.
"We want you here," she said kindly, "not because it is a matter of convenience, but because we like you. Be a little more amiable, Mr. Hamil; you never give us a moment during the day or after dinner. You haven't been to a dance yet; you never go to the beach, you never motor or sail or golf. Don't you like my children?"
"Like them! I adore them," he said, laughing, "but how can—"
"I'm going to take him camping," observed Cardross, interrupting. "I want some duck-shooting; don't you, Hamil?"
"Of course I do, but—"
"Then we start this week for the woods—"
"I won't let you," interposed his wife; "you'll talk that boy to death with your plans and surveys!"
"No, I'll promise to talk shooting every moment, and do a little of it, too. What do you say, Hamil? Gray will go with us. Are you game?"
"I'd love to, but I promised Malcourt that—"
"Oh, nonsense! Louis can wait for you to go North and lay out Mr. Portlaw's park. I've the first call on you; I've got you for the winter here—"