"Rather warm," Romeo agreed. "You folks can go downstairs until we get
on our other clothes, if you like."

They had reached the head of the stairs when Isabel changed her mind. "I
believe I'll wait for Juliet," she said, turning back.

So the Doctor went down alone, inwardly reviling himself for his unlucky
speech, and glad of an opportunity to contemplate the characteristic
residence of the twins.

The whole house was, frankly, a place where people did as they chose,
and the furniture bore marks of having been used not wisely, but too
well. Everything was clean, though not aggressively so. He ascribed the
absence of lace curtains to Romeo and the Cloisonne vase to Juliet. The
fishing rods in one corner were probably due to both.

When the others came down, Juliet tied a big blue gingham apron over her
white muslin gown and excused herself. She had been cooking for the
better part of two days and took a housewifely pride in doing everything
herself. They had chosen the things they liked the most, so the dinner
was unusual, as dinners go.

Isabel, eating daintily, made no effort to conceal her disdain, but
Doctor Jack ate heartily, praised everything, and brought the blush of
pleasure to Juliet's rosy cheeks.

Romeo, at the head of the table, radiated the hospitality of the true
host, yet a close observer would have noted how often he cast admiring
glances at Isabel. She was so dainty, so beautifully gowned and
elaborately coiffured, that Romeo compared her with his sister greatly