ff to her true companions.
Margie threatened to tell on her, but Herbert took the matter in hand,
and nothing came of the threat.

Of course Max and Wally had no idea of her associations; that was Miss
Watts' business. Isabelle played with the children of the right set,
which was all that really mattered. That she swaggered and boasted and
whistled about the house, these were annoying details, but she had
always been a pest.

Wally protested once against her hoydenish manners.

"You talk like a jockey, Isabelle. You haven't a grain of feminine
charm."

"Feminine charm! Ha!" snorted his daughter, with scorn.

"You'd better try to acquire a little. You'll need it," he warned her.

"Need it for what?"

"Need it for your business."

"What is my business?"

"Getting married."

She stared at him with an angry flush mounting her face. She turned and
mounted the stairs, leaning over to shout as she went, with unmistakable
emphasis:

"When you've bats in your belfry that flut,
When your _comprenez-vous_ line is cut,
When there's nobody home
In the top of your dome,
Then, your head's not a head; it's a nut!"

Wally swore gently, and gave it up.

Isabelle's life seemed to run in a series of crises. It was always
mounting toward or descending from a climax. The present summer of her
fourteenth year was no exception.

The historic American scenes were still highly popular, but Isabelle's
creative spirit was not yet satisfied. She was preparing the episode of
John Smith and Pocahontas, to be played by Herbert Hunter and herself as
principals, when it occurred to her that the scene ought to be played,
by night, in the woods. She proposed it to Herbert but he scoffed at it.
They never could manage. How could they get away at night? But Isabelle
had it all planned.

Her idea was to pick out the spot in the woods, put up the tepees,
collect the firewood, lay in supplies, and get everything ready in
advance. Saturday night would be the best one for the encampment,
because their parents always dined and danced at the club that night, so
the coast would be clear so far as they were concerned.

"It isn't parents, it's servants that will get in our way," objected
Herbert.

"If you _think_ how to get by them, Herbert, you can," urged the
temptress.

"How? Just tell me how I can get past old Mademoiselle when she sits in
the hall outside my door?"

"Tell her you forgot som