"Honoria's coming in from Wartrace to-morrow, and if you'll
put us next, we'll take care of your friends--mighty good care of 'em."
Then, almost wistfully Blount thought: "You won't mind letting Honoria
do that much for you, will you, son?"
"I'd be a cad if I did. And you've taken a load off of my shoulders, I
can assure you. If you can persuade Mrs. Blount into it, I'll arrange
for a little dinner of five to-morrow evening in the _cafe_ where we can
all get together. You'll like the professor, I know; and I hope you're
going to like Patricia. She's New England, and at first you may think
she's a bit chilly. But really she isn't anything of the kind."
The Honorable Senator got up and strolled to the window.
"You'd better go to bed, son," he advised. "It's getting to be mighty
late, and you'll want to be surging around some with these friends of
yours to-morrow. And, before I forget it, the big car is in
Heffelfinger's garage. Order it out after breakfast and show the
Cambridge folks a good time."
It was late the following evening, several hours after the informal
little dinner for five in the Inter-Mountain _cafe_, when the senator
had himself lifted from the lobby to the private-suite floor and made
his way to the door of his own apartments. As was her custom when they
were together, his wife was waiting up for him.
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