But Rachael, who had spent a portion of six summers with the Villalongas, found herself, in her newly analytical mood, wondering just who got any particular pleasure out of it all.  Vera herself, perhaps.  Certainly her husband, who would spend all his time playing poker and tennis, would have been as happy elsewhere.  Her two sons, tall, dark young men, in connection with whose characters the world in general contented itself merely with the word “wild,” would be there only for a week or two at most.  Billy would wait for Joe Pickering’s letters, Clarence would drink, and watch Billy.  Little Mina Villalonga, who had a minor nervous ailment, would wander about after Billy.  The Parmalees would come up for a visit, and the Morans would come.  Jack Torrence, spoiled out of all reason, would promise a week and come for two days; Porter Pinckard would compromise upon a mere hour or two, charging into the camp in his racing car, introducing hilarious friends, accepting a sandwich and a bottle of beer, and then tearing off again.  Straker Thomas, silent, mysterious, ill, would drift about for a week or two; Peter Pomeroy would go up late in July, and be adored by everyone, and take charge of the theatricals.

“The maids probably get any amount of fun out of it,” mused Rachael.  Vera was notably generous to her servants:  a certain pool was reserved for them, and their numbers formed a most congenial society every summer.  “I don’t believe I’ll go to Vera’s this year,” Mrs. Breckenridge said aloud to her husband and stepdaughter.

“I’m not crazy about it,” Billy agreed fretfully.

“Might as well,” was the man’s enthusiastic contribution.

“Oh, I’m going!” Billy said discontentedly.  “But I don’t see why you and Rachael have to go.”

“Don’t you?” her father said significantly.

“Joe Pickering’s going to be in Texas this whole summer, if that’s what you mean!” flamed Billy.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Clarence commented.

“Anyway, you might depend upon Vera to take absolute good care of Bill,” Rachael said soothingly.  “It’s time you both got away to some cooler place, if you are going to fight so about nothing!  Why do you do it?  Billy can’t marry anyone for eleven months, and if she wants to marry the man in the moon then you can’t stop her.  So there you are!”

“And I’m capable of running my own affairs,” finished Billy with a look far from filial.

“You only waste your breath arguing with Clarence when he’s got one of his headaches,” Rachael said to her stepdaughter an hour or two later when they were spinning smoothly into the city for the planned shopping.  “Of course he’ll go to Vera’s, and of course you’ll go, too!  Just don’t tease him when he’s all upset.”

“Well, what does he drink and smoke so much, and get this way for?” Billy demanded sullenly.

“What does anybody do it for?” Rachael countered.  And a second later her singing heart was with Gregory again.  He did not do it!