Will you, Jenny? Really, I'm not joking. I'd marry
you to-morrow."

Jenny's tears gradually turned to laughter, and at last she had to say:

"Oh, Fuz, you're hateful, but you are funny."

"It's a most extraordinary thing," he replied, "that the only person I
don't want to laugh at me must do it. Jane!" He held out his hand.
"Jane, are we pals again?"

"I suppose we've got to be," Jenny pouted.

"Good pals and jolly companions?"

"Oh, whoever was it said that to me once?" cried Jenny. "Years and years
ago. Oh, whoever was it?"

"Years and years?" echoed Castleton, quizzing. "Who are you, ancient
woman?"

"_Don't_ be silly. It was. Someone said it when I was a little girl. Oh,
Fuz, I'd go raving mad to remember who it was."

"Well, anyway, I've said it now. And is it a bargain?"

"What?"

"You and I being pals?"

"Of course."

"Which means that when I'm in trouble, I go to Jane for advice, and
when Jane's in trouble, she comes to Fuz. Shake hands on that."

Jenny, feeling very shy of him for the first time during their
acquaintanceship, let him take her hand.

"And the tears are a secret?" he asked.

"Not if Maurice asks me. I'd have to tell him."

"Would you? All right, if he asks, tell him."

Maurice, however, did not ask, being full of arrangements for supper and
in a quandary of taste between Pol Roger and Perrier Jouet.

"What about Perrier without Jouet?" Castleton suggested. "It would save
money."

Supper (and in the end Maurice chose Pommery) was very jolly; but
nothing for the lovers during the rest of the evening reached the height
of those first waltzes together. After supper Fuz and Jenny danced a
cake-walk, and Ronnie tried to hum a favorite tune to Cunningham in
order that he could explain to the conductor what Ronnie wanted. Nothing
came of it, however, as the latter never succeeded in disentangling it
from two other tunes. So, with laughter and dancing, they kept the night
merry to the last echo of music, and when at about half-past six they
all stood in the vestibule waiting for the salmon-colored taxis to drive
them home, all agreed that Maurice had done well.

"And I've not done yet," he said. "I suppose you all think you're going
home to tumble sleepily into bed. Oh, no, we're going to have breakfast
first at the old Sloop, Greenwich."

"Greenwich?" they repeated in chorus.

"I've ordered a thumping breakfast. The drive will do us good. We can
see the dawn break over the