“H’m, you don’t seem awfully eager. What? Walk up the avenue instead? Well, we will, afterward. But let’s run in here just a minute while I buy a veil. It won’t take any time at all. And then we can go for a walk.
“Oh, what a crowd! I do think the people get thicker every year. Well, did you get through? I thought I’d lost you. When I saw you wedged in that revolving door with that fat lady you looked so funny. She was real cross, wasn’t she? But you were so meek, I had to laugh. You looked like a feeble-minded jelly fish.
“Now, now, Willy Willing, don’t peeve. Smile a ’ittle bitsy; yes, you do seem to be the only man here. But I’m glad to have you, it is so nice to have a man to pilot one through a shopping crowd. Oh, of course, the floor-walkers are just for that purpose, but they can’t go outside their diocese, or whatever you call it. Now, you can go ahead and blaze a trail. The veil counter is over that way, I think, anyway, it’s quite near the ribbons and catty-cornered across from the artificial flowers.
“Yes, here we are at last. Now, I’ll sit on this stool and you stand right by me. Don’t let women push in between us, for I want your advice.
“Oh, look who’s here! Why, Tottie May! I haven’t seen you since we were in Venice. Do you remember Venice? And those two long lines of Hoffman houses each side of the Grand Canal! Wasn’t it stunning? You, darling, how lovely to see you again. Yes, yes, I do, I do want to be waited on, but do wait a minute, can’t you? Yes, I want veiling, by the yard—there, that’s the kind I want. Oh! please don’t let that woman carry it off!
“Goodby, darling, must you go? Yes, the large meshed kind. Oh, no, not that one covered with little blue beads. I should feel as if I had turquoise measles. I want a sort of gray—the shade they call ‘Frightened Mouse’—though why a mouse should ever be frightened when we are all scared to death of them—There, Mr. Willing, do you think this one is becoming? When I hold it up against my face, so. Where’s baby? Peep-bo. Oh, gracious, that floor-walker thought I peep-boed at him.
“Mercy me, I have rubbed all the powder off my nose. Oh, no, it won’t hurt the veil. I beg your pardon, madame, did I push you with my elbow? Indeed, I’m not taking up all the room. I’m fearfully crowded. And I rather fancy I can try the effect of a veil if I want to.
“Now, Willy Willing, how do you like this one, with the big polka dots? Yes, I know, only one dot shows, they’re so big and so far apart. But polka dots are so fashionable.
“Do you know the polka is coming in again—the dance I mean? They call it the panther polka? It’s awful sinuous—a sort of stealthy glide—makes you think of Sarah Bernhardt, or Elinor Weeks, but the best people have taken it up.
“What? you’re afraid they’ll get taken up? Oh, Willie Willing, how witty you are.