others would like to come with us? There's plenty of room for everybody."

Again Thomas choked. This was the last thing that he desired. How was he
to disclose to Sylvia the wonderful secret that he adored her with the
whole family sitting on the back seat?

"I don't believe they could get ready now," he said; "they didn't know
you expected them to go, you see, and there's really awfully little
time." He took out his watch.

Sylvia fled. Twenty minutes later she appeared at the supper-table, clad
in a soft black lace dress, slightly low in the neck, her arms only
partially concealed by transparent, flowing sleeves, her waving hair
coiled about her head like a crown. She had on no jewels--only the little
star that Austin had given her--and the gown was the sort of
demi-toilette which two years before she would have considered hardly
elaborate enough for dinner alone in her own house. To the Grays,
however, her costume represented the zenith of elegance, and Thomas began
vaguely to feel that there was something the matter with his own
appearance.

"Ought I to have put on my dress-suit?" he asked Austin in a
stage-whisper, as Sylvia left the room to get her wraps.

The mere thought of a dress-suit at the Wallacetown "movies" was comic to
the last degree, but the merciless Austin jumped at the suggestion.

"Why don't you? You won't be very late if you change quickly. You won't
need to take another bath, will you? I'll bring round the car."