Eileen laughed. "Oh, Nina, _do_ let Drina come this once! It can't hurt her--she'll look so quaint. The child's nearly fifteen, you know; do let me put up her hair. Boots will take her in." "Well, you and Austin can administer the calomel to-morrow, then. . . . And do ring up Daisy Craig; tell her mother I'm desperate, and that she and Drina can occupy the same hospital to-morrow." And so it happened that among the jolly youthful throng which clustered around the little candle-lighted tables in the dining-room at Silverside, Drina, in ecstasy, curly hair just above the nape of her slim white neck, and cheeks like pink fire, sat between Boots and a vacant chair reserved for her tardy father. For Nina had waited as long as she dared; then Boots had been summoned to take in Drina and the youthful Craig girl; and, as there were to have been six at a table, at that particular table sat Boots decorously facing Eileen, with the two children on either hand and two empty chairs flanking Eileen. A jolly informality made up for Austin's shortcoming; Gerald and his pretty bride were the centres of delighted curiosity from the Minster twins and the Innis girls and Evelyn Cardwell--all her intimates. And the younger Draymores, the Grays, Lawns, and Craigs were there in force--gay, noisy, unembarrassed young people who seemed scarcely younger or gayer than the young matron, their hostess. As for Gladys, it was difficult to think of her as married; and to Boots Drina whispered blissfully: "I look almost as old; I know I do. After this I shall certainly make no end of a fuss if they don't let me dine with them. Besides, you want me to, don't you, Boots?" "Of course I do." "And--am I quite as entertaining to you as older girls, Boots, dear?" "Far more entertaining," said that young man promptly. "In fact, I've about decided to cut out all the dinners where you're not invited. It's only three more years, anyway, before you're asked about, and if I omit three years of indigestible dinners I'll be in better shape to endure the deluge after you appear and make your bow." "When I make my bow," murmured the child; "oh, Boots, I am in such a hurry to make it! It doesn't seem as if I _could_ wait three more long, awful, disgusting years! . . . How does my hair look?" "Adorable," he said, smiling across at Eileen, who had heard the question. "Do you think my arms are very thin? Do you?" insisted Drina. "Dreams of Grecian perfection," explained Boots. And, lowering his voice, "You ought not to eat _everything_ they bring you; there'll be doings to-morrow if you do. Eileen is shaking her head." "I don't care; people don't die of overeating. And I'll take their nasty old medicine--truly I will, Boots, if you'll come and give it to me." The younger Craig maiden also appeared to be bent upon self-destruction; and Boots's eyes opened wider and wider in sheer amazement at the capacity of woman in embryo for rations sufficient to maintain a small garrison.