"Deed and deedy I'm not joking," she said. "I haven't seen Don for seven months. Last time, he promised me faithfully that he'd go to Reno and charge me with desertion or something like that. I thought he'd done it. I might have known better. He's been paying attentive court to a young lady on Broadway. He telephoned me this afternoon, demanding my sympathy because the young woman had eloped with her press-agent. He insisted on coming down here and letting me hold his hand and place cold cloths on his fevered brow." She laughed and rose from the table. "I'm going to saw him off on you, Miss Deane."
Clancy was like a peony. Mrs. Carey came round the table and threw an arm about her.
"Don't take me too seriously, Miss Deane. I talk and I talk, and when one talks too much, one talks too wildly. Sometimes, when I think upon the foolishness of youth— Don't you marry too soon, Miss Deane."
"I won't!" exclaimed Clancy.
Mrs. Carey laughed.
"Oh, but you will! But we won't argue about it." She stepped away a pace from Clancy. Her eyes narrowed as she stared. "I wonder," she said, "if you're a very—touchy—person."
Clancy hoped that she wasn't, and said so.
"Because," said Sophie Carey, "I've taken an—does it sound too patronizing? Well, no matter. I'm interested in you, Miss Deane. I want you to be a success. Will you let me dress you? Just for to-night? I have a yellow gown up-stairs. Let me see your feet."
Clancy surrendered to the mood of her hostess. She held out her gray-clad foot. Mrs. Carey nodded.
"The slipper will fit. Let's go up."