"You've done nothing," said Elizabeth—"absolutely nothing."
"I say, don't say that," I began nervously; "I've done an awful lot, really. I've practically got the costume. I'm going as Harold the Boy Earl, or Jessica's Last—— Hallo, there's my bus; I've got a cold, I mustn't keep it waiting. Good-bye." And I fled.
* * * * * * *
"I am going," I said, "as Julius Cæsar. He was practically bald. Think how cool that will be."
"Do you mean to say," cried Elizabeth, "that you have altered again?"
"Don't be rough with me or I shall cry. I've got an awful cold."
"Then you've no business to go as Julius Cæsar."
"I say, now you're trying to unsettle me. And I was going to-morrow to order the clothes."
"What! You haven't——"
"I was really going this afternoon, only—only it's early closing day. Besides, I wanted to see if my cold would get better. Because if it didn't—— Look here, I'll be frank with you. I am going as Charlemagne."