dark and trig in a little belted jacket, a gold quill shimmering at a
cocky angle on the new blue-straw hat.

"To be on the safe side, mamma, I'm going right now to meet Irving, so
we can sure have lunch and be at the boat by two."

"Not one minute later, Miriam!"

"Not one minute, mamma. Don't forget, Ray, you promised to bring my
field-glass for me. Be in the state-room all of you where Irving and
I can find you easy. There's always a big crowd at sailing. Don't get
excited, mamma. Ray, be sure and fix papa's cuffs so the red flannel
don't show. Good-by. Don't get excited, mamma!"

"Miriam, you got on the asafetidy-bag?"

"Yes, mamma."

"Miriam, you don't be one minute later as two--"

"No, mamma."

"Miriam, you--"

"Good-by!"

Over a luncheon that lay cold and unrelished between them Irving Shapiro
leaned to Miriam Binswanger, his voice competing with the five-piece
orchestra and noonday blather of the Oriental Café.