Janet had whisked the white muslin away, and already had it back, pressed and freshened.
"Lovely!" Azalea exclaimed; "how ever did you do it so quick? Happen to have an iron on the stove?"
"Electric iron," said Patty, briefly. "They're always handy, you know."
"Never saw one. No, Miss Janet,—not that way, it hooks in the back."
At last, Azalea was attired, and looked fairly presentable in her white frock; though having no white shoes and stockings she wore black ones.
"I'd like white ones," she said, apologetically, "but I could only have two pairs so I got black and the ones I wore here."
"Quite right," said Patty, appreciatively; "I'll be glad to get you some white ones. They'd be pretty with this frock."
"Oh, thank you. I'd love to have 'em. Where we going now?"
"Suppose you come to my room, while I dress," Patty suggested, thinking an object lesson in the arts of the toilette might not be amiss.
"O.K.," and the visitor strode along by the side of her hostess.