"I'm not used to being yelled at," Julia said resentfully.
Two-eighteen patted her cheek lightly. "You come out with me to-morrow and I'll buy you something pretty. Don't you like pretty clothes?"
"Yes; but—"
"Of course you do. Every girl does—especially pretty ones like you. How do you like this dress? Don't you think it smart?"
She turned squarely to face Julia, trying on her the tricks she had practised in the mirror. A little cruel look came into Julia's face.
"Last year's, isn't it?" she asked coolly.
"This!" cried Two-eighteen, stiffening. "Last year's! I got it yesterday on Fifth Avenue, and paid two hundred and fifty for it. What do you—"
"Oh, I believe you," drawled Julia. "They can tell a New Yorker from an out-of-towner every time. You know the really new thing is the Bulgarian effect!"
"Well, of all the nerve!" began Two-eighteen, turning to the mirror in a sort of fright. "Of all the—"
What she saw there seemed to reassure. She raised one hand to push the gown a little more off the left shoulder.