“Roberta’s father wouldn’t let her either,” said Betty, “but mother didn’t mind, as long as it’s only before a few girls. I presume she wouldn’t like my coming over here and frightening you. But I honestly didn’t think you’d be deceived.”
“I’m so glad you came,” said Miss Madison lying back luxuriously among her pillows. “Does the story of the play take place in the evening?”
“Yes, all of it. I’m dressed for the theatre, but I’m detained by the robbery.”
“Then I have something I want to lend you. Alice, open the washstand drawer, please–no, the middle one–in that flat green box. Thank you. Your hat, sir villain,” she went on, snapping open an opera hat and handing it to Betty with a flourish.
“How perfectly lovely!” exclaimed Betty. “But how in the world did you happen to have it?”
“Why, I stayed with my cousins for two weeks just before I came up here, and I found it in their guest-chamber bureau. It wasn’t Cousin Tom’s nor Uncle Dick’s, and they didn’t know whose it was; so they gave it to me, because I liked to play with it. Should you really like to use it?”
“Like it!” repeated Betty, shutting the hat and opening it again with a low bow. “Why it will be the cream of the whole performance. It would make the play go just of itself,” and she put it on and studied the effect attentively in the mirror.
“It’s rather large,” said Alice. “If I were you, I’d just carry it.”
“It is big,” admitted Betty regretfully, “or at least it makes me look very small. But I can snap it a lot, and then put it on as I exit. Miss Madison, you’ll come to the play of course. I hadn’t but one ticket left, but after lending us this you’re a privileged person.”
“I hoped you’d ask me,” said Miss Madison gratefully. “The play does sound so exciting. But that wasn’t why I offered you the hat.”