Mary tiptoed down the hall, holding a gloved hand tightly over her lips. When she reached the street she let the laugh have its way.
"Now what do you know about that?" she murmured. And Mary was not an adept in the use of slang.
Some hours later she was discussing final preparations with Nell Norcross, who had convalesced to the point where she was sitting up in a chair and taking a vivid interest in everything that concerned the social fortunes of Bill Marshall, débutant.
"And now I have a surprise for you," said Mary. "You're coming to the party yourself!"
"I?" exclaimed Nell.
"You're quite well enough, and I'll need your help, my dear. I'm counting on you."
"But, Mary—oh, I can't."
"Nonsense. I've spoken to Miss Marshall about it. I explained I had a friend who had also done secretarial work and who really knew a great deal more about it than I do, and she said by all means to bring you. There won't really be anything for you to do, but you'll just be there in case we need some expert advice."
"I don't believe I'm strong enough," demurred Nell.