“Are you really going to do it, Jarve?” she cried.

“Of course I’m going to do it—­with your help.”

“Help!  I’ll do any thing.  Have you told Max?”

“I’ll tell him nothing till the tent’s up—­and furnished.  Here, look at this list, and advise me as to size.  Would an eighteen by twenty-four wall-tent—­of the heaviest duck—­be about right?”

“Eighteen by twenty-four!  Why, that’s—­how big would that be?”

“About the size of this dining-room.  I could get an eighteen by thirty-four—­”

Josephine interrupted him with a burst of delighted laughter.

“You might get Sally a circus tent,” she cried.  “As big as this dining-room!  Why, Jarve—­”

“She wants the whole family with her,” explained Jarvis, with composure.  “That means the tent must be divided off into rooms.  And she must have one section for a living-room.  I’m going to have a floor made—­the carpenter will go out in the morning, if he keeps his word.  By quick work we ought to be able to take her out there to-morrow night, but allowing for delays, the next evening will have to do.  Mother, have we any cots?”

“I’m afraid we have no cots.  There are two single-width white iron beds in the attic—­”

“All the better.  May I have them?”

“I wonder you stop to ask permission of anybody for anything,” observed Josephine.  “Mother, have you seen Jarvis look so waked up since he put on goggles?”

Mrs. Burnside smiled.  She was very glad to see her son so interested, although she felt decidedly doubtful as to the way in which the Lanes would take his interference in their affairs.  Still, as Jarvis had urged, people who have been friends from childhood, with an old family friendship of fathers and grandfathers behind them, should have some rights when it comes to matters so important.  And if anybody could manage Max’s proud and intolerant temper, Jarvis, with his quiet firmness, should be the one.  Josephine, also, was of the make-up which can fight for that which seems right.  Between them, if they could not put the thing through, it would be rather remarkable.

“Joey, will you and mother drive out with me this evening and decide on where to put the tent?” Jarvis rose from the table, after having made a hasty meal which did not include any superfluous courses.

“Of course I will.”  Josephine pushed aside her dessert.

“I will stay at home and look up blankets and bedding,” announced Mrs. Burnside.  “Have you thought of the cooking question?  Shall we try to supply the utensils?”

“If you can spare them, mother.  I’ll buy what you can’t contribute.  I’ve bargained for a little gasolene stove and a small tent for a kitchen.  As for the cooking, is that specimen they have in the flat now good enough to import to the camp?”

“She’s pretty poor.  I had luncheon there yesterday with Sally.”  Josephine’s face spoke louder than her words.