You and I will
wander out into the wonderful autumn woods, and sit down on a soft,
pleasant log, and pick out the opera, and the cast, and be happy
generally. Only I won't play unless, as. I explained last night, you
are a leading lady with a real star part. As I'm a wonderful stage
manager I feel strongly that it will be thus."
"Thank you," said Joy amiably but absently. Something appalling had
just occurred to her.
"Good gracious," she told him, "it's a special occasion, and the
cook and the waitress are both going off to funerals or something,
and Gail is going to have to get that whole dinner single-handed!"
CHAPTER TWELVE
DINNER FOR FIVE
Clarence smiled most agreeably.
"You should try to be more of an optimist, dear Joy," he reproved.
"Try to live up to your name."
"I got it out of Blake," said Joy, "or they did--and I never did see
why you should live up to a name your grandfather pinned on you out
of a poetry book."
"Pardon this seeming curiosity," hinted Clarence, "but didn't you
ever have any parents, not even to the extent of their having a
chance to name you?"
"They died before I was born," Joy explained. "At least, as much as
they could. My father quite did and my mother died before I was a
week old. So Grandfather had it all to do, as far as naming went.
You know that horrid poem--
_"I have no name--
I am but three days old:"_
"And it's called Infant Joy, and so was I.
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