Part 26

"Good. I hope it's a duel between the two principals. If it is I'm going to tamper with the weapons and see that each injures himself past help. I'm getting a little weary of playing the hospitable host to a trio of would-bes."

"Listen. We'll entertain them all at once for a week, with some extra girls, and Judith and Wayne, and then we'll announce that we're not at home for a month."

"All at once--a house-party?" Anthony sat up and laughed uproariously. "I've tremendous faith in you, love, but where in the name of all the French sardines that ever were dovetailed would you put such a crowd?"

"I've a practical plan. Louis Lockwood belongs to a fishing club that spends every August up in Canada. They have a big tent, twenty by twenty-five, for he told me so the other day. He would get it for us; we would put it out in the orchard, close to the river. You and Wayne, and Roger and Louis, and Stevens Cathcart could sleep down there, and I could easily take care of Judith and Suzanne Gerard and Marie Dresser, here in the house. Rachel should stay here, too. And Auntie Dingley would send down Mary McKaim to cook for us, I'm sure."

"That's not so bad. But why Rachel--when you have so little room?"

"Because I want her to have all the fun; because if I don't keep her here she will be running away half the time; and because----"

"Now comes the real reason," observed Anthony sagely.

"I don't want the other girls thinking she has the unfair advantage of taking a man away from the party every evening to walk down home with her."

"Wise little chaperon. I can see Roger and Louis now, glaring at each other as the hour approaches for her departure."

"What do you think of my plan? It's only a plan, you know, Tony--subject to your approval."

"Diplomat!" murmured Anthony, reaching up one arm and drawing it about her shoulders. "You know you're safe to have my approval when you put it in that tone. Well, provided you can figure out the finances--and I know you wouldn't propose it if you hadn't done that already--I don't see any objection. On one condition, though, Julie, mind you--on one condition."

"Name it."

"Of course, I can only be here evenings during your house party. So my condition is that I have you and the home all to myself for my vacation afterward. Not a wooer nor a chum admitted. No overdressed women out from town, taking afternoon tea--no invitations to lonesome husbands out to dinner. Just you and I. Did you ever imagine life in the rural localities would be so gay, anyhow? I want to go fishing with you--tramping through the woods with you--sitting out here on the porch with you--in short, have you all to myself--and"--he turned completely about, kneeling below her on the step, crushing her in both arms so vigorously that he stopped her breath--"eat--you--up!"

"What a prospect," she cried softly, when she found herself partially released. "Are you sure you need a vacation, just for that?"

"Certain of it. I've had to share you with other people all the year--and now I've got to give you up to a jealous lovers' assemblage. So after that, mind you, I have my satisfaction."

* * * * *

When Doctor Barnes was told of the plan he looked gloomy. "Going to ask Lockwood?" he inquired at once.

"Of course," assented Juliet promptly.

"I don't see any 'of course' about it."

"What would Marie Dresser do to me if I didn't invite him?"

"He doesn't care for her----"

"Oh, yes, he does. Why, last winter he seemed to be on the point of asking her to marry him. Everybody expected the announcement any day."

"Last winter and this summer are two different propositions."

"Marie doesn't think so."

"She'll get mightily undeceived, then. Whom else are you asking?"

"Stevens Cathcart."

The doctor groaned. "Is this a dose you're fixing for me? I'm going to be too busy--I can't come."

"Very well," said Juliet placidly. She was sewing, upon the porch, and the doctor sat on the step.