Sally drew a long breath of relief.  Anyhow, she now had more than two months’ reprieve.  By the end of that period something might happen to make Max willing to extend it.  The tent had been put up again, and all but Max had returned to sleeping in it.  He had announced that he cared to take no more chances with thunderstorms and cyclones, so Sally had arranged comfortable quarters for him in the house, in one of the smaller downstairs rooms, looking out upon the grove.  There was a fireplace in this room, and Bob had placed a well-stocked wood-box beside it, so that his brother might have no excuse for feeling himself neglected.

“Your compromise gives you so much the bigger half of the bargain,” said Josephine, her brilliant dark eyes fixed on Max, “that I think you ought to give Sally something to boot.  Isn’t that the word?”

“What does she want?  The house furnished for the two months?”

“Much simpler than that.  Sally and I want to have our friends out for a frolic.”

“In an empty house?”

“Yes.  What jollier place for a lot of fun?  Only it wouldn’t seem empty by the time we had put up a lot of flags and bunting and goldenrod and balsam branches.  That long drawing-room of yours, with crash on the floor—­and a harp and violins behind a screen—­and Chinese lanterns all over the rooms and on the porch and down the driveway—­”

Josephine’s imagination worked fast.  She had gone into a dozen specifications before Max could get a chance to interpose.

“Very fine, very fine!  And a supper-table, loaded with salads and ices.  Glorious idea!  How much do you think all this would cost?  Of course that’s of no consequence, but just out of curiosity I should like to know.”

“Goodness, we’ve boxes of lanterns, rolls of bunting and flags, and yards of crash left from parties way back to my first birthday ones,” Josephine assured him.  “As for the supper—­” She paused to think it out, for party suppers are unquestionably expensive details.

“Wait till October and make it a husking-bee,” suggested Donald Ferry.  He had become in these few weeks as much a member of this circle of friends as if he had always belonged to it.  “Then you’ll need only coffee and doughnuts and apples and that sort of thing.  There’ll be corn enough in my patch to trim your rooms, and plenty for the husking.”

“Jolly!” exploded Bob.

“Fine!” cried Alec.

Sally’s eyes were radiant.  Even Uncle Timothy smiled.  Max himself, being, after all, in spite of his grave air, only twenty-four, and capable of enjoying gay times like the rest of them, felt his indifference melt away.

“That would give us a chance to do something in return for all the invitations we’ve had ever since we’ve been in the apartment,” urged Sally.  “Wouldn’t you like to ask your friends in the bank, Max?”

“If we had the thing, I shouldn’t mind asking two of the fellows—­Harper and Ward,” Max admitted.  “Oh, I suppose we’ll have it.  When Jo and Sally get their minds on anything, it has to go through.  If you can figure it out so it doesn’t mean a big bill, it may do very well as a wind-up to this out-door business.”