"Yes, Skipper!" He was there at a bound.
"Don't you think your father would like this water-ice? I think he could—I believe he might enjoy it."
He took the little covered tray out of her hands. "I'll bet he will, Skipper. You're a brick. Come on over with me, will you—and wait on the porch?"
She looked back into the roomful. "Had I better? I don't suppose they'll miss me for a minute——"
But Carter Van Meter was coming toward them, threading his way among people and furniture with his slight, halting limp. He looked from one to the other, questioningly.
"Taking this over to my Dad," Jimsy explained. "Back in a shake."
"I see. How about a ride to the beach? Supper at the ship-hotel? Celebrate a little?"
"Deuce of a lot of work for Monday," Jimsy frowned. "Haven't studied a lick this week."
Carter laughed. "Oh, Monday's—Monday! Come along! We can't"—he turned to Honor—"be by ourselves to-night, with the celeb. here. Honor has to stay and play-pretty with her."
"Well ... if we don't make it too late——"