"Jimps!" Georgiana's soft laughter assailed his ear. "I believe we're both a bit crazy with this sudden leap into dissipation--such dissipation! Just remember where we'll be to-morrow night." "I don't want to--except that I'll be with you. We'll talk it all over by your fire, eh?" "Of course. There'll be that much left, anyhow. Is this over? Thank you, Jimps, for the best dance I've had to-night." "No use trying it on me," he murmured as he released her. "What's the use of capturing what you've already got?" By and by it was all over and Georgiana was mounting the stairs with Jeannette, smiling back at certain faces in the disordered spaces below, where flowers lay about the floors and a group of young fellows, belonging to Rosalie's house party, were making merry before they broke ranks. In Jeannette's room by a blazing fire the girls held brief session, sitting with unbound hair and swinging slippered feet, and cheeks still flushed with the night's gayety. "Jimps and I were imagining ourselves sitting by the fire in our old living-room to-morrow night," said Georgiana softly, staring into the flame with eyes which reflected little points of light. "It will seem like a dream then, but we shall talk it all over, and remember what fun we had, and how lovely everybody was to us--and how beautiful you were in that blue-and-silver frock." "You dear thing, you ought to have such times often and often!" cried Jeannette. "But--O Georgiana, you have times I envy you! While you are dreaming of our flowers and music I shall be dreaming of the dear old house, and the jolly evenings you gave me there, and envying you--oh, envying you----" "Envying me! Are you crazy, child, or are you just----" "Just speaking the truth. You can't think how many times I shall think of you sitting there with your three splendid men----" "Jean! What are you talking about?" "About Uncle David, and Jimps, and Mr. Jefferson----" "But they're not mine," protested Georgiana, laughing. "Except Father Davy." "Not--Jimps?" "Oh, of course he's my friend, my very good friend. And Mr. Jefferson's only a 'boarder,'"--she made a little grimace at the word. "You speak as if I had them all about me all the time." "But you do evenings, don't you?" "They were there much more while you were visiting me than they will be now. Jimps has heaps of arrears to make up; he let lots of work go while you were there, you must know, my dear. As for Mr. Jefferson--he may never come down any more, now that Jimps won't be going up to beg him to make a fourth for your entertainment. So don't imagine me holding court with those three retainers. It will mostly be just Father Davy and I with a volume of Dumas or Kipling. Isn't it odd how my pale little father loves the red blood of literature?"