"I think we'd better invite Lucy
up, too, don't you?"
"Won't she--Mrs. Peyton--think we're rather cool?" Charlotte suggested,
as they tucked the boy in.
"Not a bit. She'll be glad to have the job off her hands. The youngsters
are tired, and ought to have been in bed an hour ago. Stay here, and
I'll run down after Lucy."
On the stairs, as they descended, after Charlotte had seen Lucy to her
quarters, they met Jeff.
"Been putting the kids to bed?" he questioned curiously, under his
breath. "Well, you're great. Their mother doesn't seem much worried
about it. She's quite a talker. Guess she didn't notice what happened.
Say, I'm going. It's ten o'clock. You two ought to have a chance to look
'round without any more company to-night. Justin slipped off while you
were up-stairs. Told me to say good-night. Father and mother are only
waiting for a pause in your cousin's conversation long enough to throw
in a word of their own before they get up." He made an expressive
gesture.
"You know mother's invariable rule," he chuckled, "never to get up to go
at the end of one of your guest's conversational sprints, but always to
wait until you can interrupt yourself, so to speak.
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