"Because, papa, I must dress fashionably. It is not my fault if artists don't know the fashions. Can't I have mamma for about half an hour?"
"When she has finished this criticism of Edwin Booth. Come in, Kitty; it will do you good to hear it."
"Thank you, no, papa; I am going to Booth's myself to-night, and I prefer to do my own criticism." Then Kitty disappeared, Mrs. Duffan skipped a good deal of criticism, and Tom got back to his "Ah! che la morte ognora" much quicker than the column of printed matter warranted.
"Well, Kitty child, what do you want?"
"See here."
"Parquette seats, middle aisle; I know them. Jack always does get just about the same numbers."
"Jack? You don't mean to say that Jack Warner sent them?"
Kitty nodded and laughed in a way that implied half a dozen different things.
"But I thought that you had positively refused him, Kitty?"