“I’ve got a cameo pin, too,” continued Aunt Mary reflectively. “My, but that’s a handsome pin, as I remember it. It’s got Jupiter on it holdin’ a bunch of thunder and lightnin’ an’ receivin’ the news of somebody’s bein’ born—I used to know the whole story. But, you see, I expected to just be sittin’ by Jack’s bed and I never thought to bring any of those dress-up kind of things,” she sighed.
Janice returned to the bed side.
“Hadn’t you better begin to dress?” she howled suggestively. “They are going to dine here before going to the theater and dinner is ordered in an hour.”
“Maybe I had,” said Aunt Mary, “but—oh dear—I don’t know what I will wear!” She began to emerge from the bedclothes as she spoke.
“How would my green plaid waist do?” she asked earnestly.
“I think it would be lovely,” shrieked the maid.
“Well, shake it out then,” said Aunt Mary, “it ought to be in the fashion—all the silk they put in the sleeves. An’ if you’ll do my hair just as you did it yesterday—”
“Yes, I will.”
Then the labor of the toilette began in good earnest, and three-quarters of an hour later Aunt Mary was done, and sitting by the window while Janice laced her boots.
A rap sounded at the door.