"Say!" Tom interjected, "I bet Heavy is funny even when she is in love."
"They are not at Lighthouse Point. The Stones did not go there this summer, I understand," Helen observed.
"I am sorry for Jennie and Colonel Marchand if they are at the Stones' city house at this time of the year," the girl of the Red Mill said.
"Bully!" cried Tom, with sudden animation. "That's just what we will do!"
"What will we do, crazy?" demanded his twin.
"We'll get Jennie Stone and Henri Marchand--he's a good sport, too, as I very well know--and we'll all go for a motor trip. Jimminy Christmas! that will be just the thing, Sis. We'll go all over New England, if you like. We'll go Down East and introduce Colonel Marchand to some of our hard-headed and tight-fisted Yankees that have done their share towards injecting America into the war. We will----"
"Oh!" cried Ruth, breaking in with some small enthusiasm, "let's go to Beach Plum Point."
"It is down in Maine. Beyond Portland. And Mr. Hammond and his company are there making my 'Seaside Idyl.'"
"Oh, bully!" cried Helen, repeating one of her brother's favorite phrases, and now quite as excited over the idea as he. "I do so love to act in movies. Is there a part in that 'Idyl' story for me?"
"I cannot promise that," Ruth said. "It would be up to the director. I wasn't taking much interest in this particular picture. I wrote the scenario, you know, before I went to France. I have been giving all my thought to----
"Oh, dear! If we could only find my lost story!"
"Come on!" interrupted Tom. "Let's not talk about that. Will you write to Jennie Stone?"
"Do. I'll take it to the post office and send it special delivery. Tell her to wire her answer, and let it be 'yes.' We'll take both cars. Father won't mind."
"Oh, _but_!" cried Helen. "How about a chaperon?"
"Oh, shucks! I wish you'd marry some nice fellow, Sis, so that we'd always have a chaperon on tap and handy."
She made a little face at him. "I am going to be old-maid aunt to your many children, Tommy-boy. I am sure you will have a full quiver. We will have to look for a chaperon."
"Aunt Kate!" exclaimed Ruth. "Heavy's Aunt Kate. She is just what Helen declares she wants to be--an old-maid aunt."
"Sure. Ask her. Beg her," agreed Tom. "Tell her it is the crying need. We have positively got to have some fun."