"Where is she?" asked Johnny, jumping up with alacrity.

"She just went out on the side porch of the library," announced
Courtney. "Her message is from me, however. Washer and Close and the
colonel are coming out this noon."

"Thanks," replied Johnny starting away. "Did I understand you to say
the side porch of the library?"

A thin-legged figure stopped in the door and twitched.

"Mornin'," it observed. "I knew Eugene's intellect was woozing
again. Always announcing some plan for us to bore each other, don't
you know, and never having it come off."

"This is the place and the hour, Reggie," declared Mr. Courtney. "If
you'll just stay here I'll send you out a brandy and soda and some
cigars."

"Thanks awfully, old man," returned Reggie, looking dubiously out at
the loggia. It was enticing enough, with its broad, cool, tiled
flooring and its vine-hung arches and its vistas of the tree-clad
hills across the ravine; but it was empty. "I think I'll return when
the rest of them are together.", And Reggie, stumbling against the
door-jamb on his way out, wandered away, choosing the right-hand
passage because his body had happened to lurch in that direction.

"Johnny, if you say anything I'll be peevish," protested Courtney in
advance. "Please remember that the gentleman is a guest of mine."