"Try it a while for yourself, and then if it works, teach it to them," said Elizabeth with sudden inspiration.
"Well, I'll teach it to them, anyway," Moses decided.
"Here comes Marmer," Mabel cried.
"I just slipped over to Mis' Hawes'," Mrs. Steppe explained, apologetically. "I had a matter I wanted to consult her about. My spine kinder give way last night, and I thought when she was going into a trance, she might see if Little Eva had anything to say about it. It ain't important enough for her to go into one special for."
Elizabeth stared at the vision in purple velvet—a tight-fitting basque of obsolete make gripped the eighteen-inch waist inexorably, and the skirt, cut to the prevailing eight inches above the floor, exposed high white canvas shoes with knotted laces, shoes that had apparently never been cleaned in the course of their long and useful existence. Mrs. Steppe had not prefaced this elaborate toilet by arranging her hair, and the light strands stood out from her face, straggling and unkempt as usual.
"I'm glad to see you," Elizabeth said, a little confusedly. "I just came in to say good-bye. I'm going away to-night, you know."
"What train be you taking?"
"I'm not taking any train. We're motoring."
"Well," said Mrs. Steppe. "I'm glad you got an automobile to go in. I'm one of those that likes to see my friends get on in the world."
"So—so do I," said Elizabeth. "What a pretty colour that dress is."