"Ve-ry pretty. Really, though, we _have_ a jolly crowd here. All complete except for Roland Cary. If Roland Cary hadn't notions!" "Is any man foolish enough to decline an invitation from you?" "Any man? Oh, Roland Cary's a cousin." "Lucky man! Madam, may I ask if he is so attractive that you wish he had come instead of me?" "I wanted--wanted him to be here with you, silly. He--he is perfectly charming. You know, I'm half afraid of _you_. You're such a superior old Yankee that I dare say you despise us Marylanders, and were as late in getting here as you _dared_ to be." The perennial challenge of the Southern belle was in her tones. Fessenden laughed. "I ran across Danton in Baltimore. Blame it all on him." "Charlie Danton? Oh, isn't he most exasperating! Now, come up and meet everybody. Boys and girls, this is Mr. Fessenden--Mrs. Randall and Dick Randall, over there. And Pinckney--Pinck, do get out of that chair long enough to be polite!--my lord and master, Tom. That's my cousin, May Belle--May Belle Cresap--and Harry Cleborne; and _this_ is Miss Yarnell, the celebrated Miss Madge Yarnell; and--and that's all. How funny! I do believe I'm the only one of us you've ever met before." "That proves how benighted I've been," he returned. "But what can you expect of a man who's never been on the Eastern Shore?" Detecting something proprietary in the manner of the young man who hung over the back of Miss May Belle Cresap's chair, he abandoned his thought of taking a seat next that languid lady, and instead inserted himself deftly between Pinckney Cresap and Miss Madge Yarnell. Cresap shook hands heartily. "Glad to see you, Fessenden. I've heard a lot of you from Polly ever since she knew you in New York--before she did me the honor to marry me. Glad you've got down to see us on our native heath at last." He poked a rather shaky finger at the stranded mint-leaf in the empty glass before him. "A julep? No? You mentioned Charlie Danton just now. You've heard about his high doings, I suppose. Perhaps you're in his confidence?" "Not at all. He's in mine, to the extent of persuading me to buy a small yacht of his this morning--sight unseen. He promised to telegraph over this way somewhere and have it sent around to your boat-landing--if you'll allow me." "Of course. My man will take care of it when it turns up. Danton's a queer one." He rattled his empty glass suggestively at his wife. "He seemed as cynical as ever," commented Fessenden. "He ought to be. They say that if it were befo' de wah' he'd have to meet a certain Baltimore man on the field of honor--a married man, you understand. Coffee and pistols for two!" Fessenden was willing to elude the foreshadowed gossip. "We're shocking Miss Yarnell, I'm afraid." The girl was, indeed, sitting with averted head, her face set rather sternly. "Eh! Oh, I beg your pardon, Madge," said Cresap, with real concern.