"Hand up another dozen eggs for Miss Winters, Joe," he called to one of the men, and then they all laughed at Miss Winters. When the cake came, Lawrence identified each kind with some remark about the mother of the girl who had brought it, and tasted all, because, as he said, he could not afford to show partiality. The fun lagged somewhat as the meal neared its end, but Lawrence revived it instantly and sensationally by rising suddenly, bending far over toward Lavinia in a tragic attitude and saying: "Why, Vine, child, you haven't eaten a mouthful! I do believe you're in love!" The company burst into laughter, but they suddenly stopped when they saw Marley. His face showed his anger with them, and he made a little movement, but Lavinia smiled up at Lawrence, and said: "Well, Jack, it's evident that _you're_ not." And then they all laughed at Lawrence, and the girls clapped their hands, while Marley, angry now with himself, tried to laugh with them. When they stopped laughing Lawrence produced his cigarettes, and tossing one to Marley in a way that delicately conveyed a sense of intimacy and affection, he said: "When you girls get your dishes done up we'll be back and see if we can't think up something to entertain you," and then he called Marley and with him and the other men strolled down to the lake. CHAPTER IV MOONLIGHT The dance was proposed almost immediately. Marley had hoped up to the very last minute that something, possibly a miracle, would prevent it, but scarcely had the men finished their first cigarettes before Howard was saying: "Well, let's be getting back to the girls. They'll want to dance." Howard spoke as if the dancing would be a sacrifice on the part of the men to the pleasure of the girls, but they all turned at once, some of them flinging their cigarettes into the water, as if to complete the sacrifice, and started back. When they reached the pavilion, Payson and Gallard took instruments out of green bags, Payson a guitar and Gallard a mandolin, and Lawrence, bustling about over the floor, shoving the few chairs against the unplastered wooden walls, was shouting: "Tune 'em up, boys, tune 'em up!" The first tentative notes of the strings twanged in the hollow room, and Lawrence was asking the girls for dances, scribbling their names on his cuff with a disregard of its white polished linen almost painful. "I'll have to divide up some of 'em, you know, girls," he said. "Jim and Elmer have to play, and that makes us two men shy. But I'll do the best I can--wish I could take you all in my arms at once and dance with you." The girls, standing in an expectant, eager little group, clutched one another nervously, and pretended to sneer at Lawrence's patronage.