"Yes," again interposed Mrs. Blanchard. "There seemed to be no one else to take care of her, so Nora begged to be allowed to take her in, and you know we are all her abject slaves!"
Nora laughed. "I'd like to see you an abject slave to any one," she said.
"Indeed, I feel abject enough just now," she replied, yawning slightly. "Mr. Chillingworth, how many visits do you think Nora and I paid this afternoon?"
"I shouldn't venture to guess," he said, smiling.
"Fifteen! not one less. Haven't I a right to feel tired after such a day's work? Just think of all the talking I've done."
"But then several of the people weren't at home, so we only had to leave the cards and come away," explained the severely truthful Nora.
"Well, eight visits, with all the talking that means, is a very good afternoon's work."
And having successfully diverted the conversation from such unpleasant topics, Mrs. Blanchard kept up a little skirmishing small-talk till dinner was announced.
Kitty Farrell came in to join them after dinner, as had been arranged. She was looking particularly bright and pretty in her soft white wraps. She had brought her father's neat little brougham, in which they drove down to the hall, where the practice would be held.
"I suppose you're both going to Mrs. Pomeroy's dinner-party, on Saturday evening?" said Mr. Chillingworth, on the way.