“Bully for you, sis!” And then lowering his voice, “This chance may never come again! I’m going to wring every possible drop out of it even as you wring out that dish rag. By-the-way, if it isn’t impertinent, when did you see Ned last?” “Not since the day you saw me walking with him--for the last time. But he telephoned this afternoon. He wanted to come up this evening.” “Well, he’s of age and the curfew law can’t touch him. What was the answer?” “I told him I wouldn’t be at home. I’m not going to have him calling here when his mother barely speaks to me! Ned didn’t say so, but I suspect she gave him a good scolding for taking me instead of Sally to the Seebrings’ dance.” “How do you get that? If he didn’t tell you----!” “Of course not! But Sally had to go with her mother and there were more girls than men; so Sally only had about half the dances and the rest of the time sat on the sidelines with her mother and Mrs. Kirby. I caught a look now and then that was quite suggestive of murder in the first degree.” “Helen,” said John, lifting his eyes dreamily to the ceiling, “I’ll wager a diamond tiara against one of your delicious buckwheat cakes that you and I will get an invitation to the Kirby party.” “Taken! The cards went out yesterday. I met some of the girls downtown this morning, and they were buzzing about it.” “Let ’em buzz! Ours will probably come special delivery with a note of explanation that in copying the list or something of the kind we were regrettably omitted. And let me see,” he went on, rubbing his chin reflectively, “I rather think Ned will ask you to go to the party with him. It occurs to me that old man Shepherd owns some land he’s trying to sell to the Transcontinental, and the railway people are shy of it because it’s below the flood line on our perverse river. Yes; I think we may jar the Shepherds a little too.” “Why, John!” she laughed as she hung up her apron, “you almost persuade me that you’ve already got free swing at the Campbell boodle!” “I look at it this way, Helen. We can all spend our own money; it’s getting the benefit of other people’s money that requires genius. I must now step down to the public library and to the _Journal_ office to get some dope on the Campbells. Also I’ll have to sneak mother’s photograph of Mrs. Campbell out of the house. A few illustrations will give tone to our publicity stuff.” “Be bold, John, but not too bold!” “‘The Campbells are coming, tra la!’” he sang mockingly, and spiking her hands, hummed the air and danced back and forth across the kitchen. “By jing, that tune’s wonderful for the toddle!” he cried exultantly. “We’ll make all Kernville step to it.” IV