Mrs. Wise laughed. “I can give you a headline, though, for the article,” she said, “and from our wise old Wendell Holmes. ‘Dowdyism is clearly an expression of imperfect vitality; the highest fashion is intensely alive.’”
Phyl chuckled. “Then I shall invest in green leather shoes and green Suède gloves,” she said. “I saw in a paper they were the dominant note in Paris fashions.”
“Here comes Dolichus,” said Clif. “Get your breath up, Mater; you’ll have to deliver your peroration again; she has the same frock on that she wore at breakfast.”
But Dolly was wearing it even when she went to bed, and no one had said her nay.
[294]
]CHAPTER XXVIII
ONE GLORIOUS HOUR
“So lay that afternoon to sleep
Among your dearest pansy-knots,
The hushed herbarium where you keep
Your heart’s forget-me-nots.”
Downhill for a space, then over a feeble creek, and springing steeply up again ran the green road that branched off from the red and more important one of the lonely suburb, and once past the doctor’s house narrowed into a bush-track that lost itself over the hill.