boloed Drina to everybody's exquisite satisfaction, looked around at the
sudden rustle of skirts to catch a glimpse of a vanishing figure--a
glimmer of ruddy hair and the white curve of a youthful face,
half-buried in a muff.

Mortified, he got to his feet, glanced out into the hallway, and began
adjusting his attire.

"No, you don't!" he said mildly, "I decline to perform again. If you
want any more wriggling you must accomplish it yourselves. Drina, has
your governess--by any unfortunate chance--er--red hair?"

"No," said the child; "and won't you _please_ crawl across the floor and
bolo me--just _once_ more?"

"Bolo me!" insisted Billy. "I haven't been mangled yet!"

"Let Billy assassinate somebody himself. And, by the way, Drina, are
there any maids or nurses or servants in this remarkable house who
occasionally wear copper-tinted hair and black fox furs?"

"No. Eileen does. Won't you please wriggle--"

"Who is Eileen?"

"Eileen? Why--don't you know who Eileen is?"

"No, I don't," began Captain Selwyn, when a delighted shout from the
children swung him toward the door again. His sister, Mrs. Gerard, stood
there in carriage gown and sables, radiant with surprise.