"I'd much rather you wouldn't," returned Geraldine anxiously—"not until I've paid for these."
She had changed the white dress she wore into town for a dark-blue skirt and jacket which formed the chief item of her purchases, and on her head she had a black sailor hat which Miss Upton had procured in Keefe.
"I want to give you," said Miss Upton—"I want to give you a—a droopy hat!"
Geraldine laughed. "What in the world for, you dear? What do I need of droopy hats?"
"To wear with your light things—your white dress, and—and everything."
"Miss Upton, how absurd! I don't need it at all. Don't think of such a thing. I shan't go anywhere."
"I don't believe you know what you'll do," returned Miss Mehitable. "Just come and try one on, anyway. I want to see you in it."
So, coaxing, while the girl demurred, she led her to the millinery section of the store they were in. Of course, putting hats on Geraldine was a very fascinating game, which everybody enjoyed except the girl herself. There was one hat especially in which Miss Upton reveled, mentally considering its devastating effect upon Ben Barry. It was very simple, and at the most depressed point of the brim nestled one soft, loose-leaved pink rose with a little foliage. Miss Upton's eyes glistened and she drew the saleslady aside.
"I've bought it," she said triumphantly when she came back.
"It isn't right," replied Geraldine, although it must be admitted that she herself had thought of Ben when she first saw the reflection of it in the glass.