“The Advancement of Woman, dear. Jack hates advanced women and when I make up with him—”
“But you said a moment ago that you would never—”
“Good gracious, Emily,” cried the blue-eyed girl, hastily, “do stop talking a moment and let me get in a word edgewise: I’ve been trying for half an hour to get a chance to ask you where the new waist you offered to show me, is, and I can’t—”
“Here it is in my wardrobe and isn’t it a dream? You may try it on, if you like.”
“Thank you, dear; but no. I care so little for such frivolities, now that I have come to enjoy the real intellectual life. Did you ever see such darling sleeves? It does seem that a girl who could not be happy in them must—”
“Have at least a boil on her chin! Yes, doesn’t it? But really, Dorothy, you make me ashamed of caring so much for such vanities. Why, those very sleeves cost me two whole nights’ rest!”
“Never mind about that, dear; we can’t all be intellectual. Look here, Emily Marshmallow, if you’ll promise never to breathe it as long as you live, I’ll tell you the last mean thing that Frances—”
“Oh, do! She has a new gown that would arouse the envy of Dr. Mary Walker. All chiffon, spangles, embroidery and—”
“I know. My story has reference to that very gown. You know how very mysterious she always is about her new things!”
“M’hm. As if anybody cared to know about them! Do tell me if her waist is made—”