"It's a bully day out," said Elfie, looking at herself in the mirror. "I've been shopping all morning long; just blew myself until I'm broke, that's all. My goodness, don't you ever get dressed? Listen—talk about cinches! I copped out a gown, all ready made. It fits me like the paper on the wall for thirty-seven and one-half dollars. Looks like it might have cost $200. Anyway, I had them charge $200 on the bill, and I kept the change. There are two or three more down there, and I want you to go down and look them over. Models, you know, being sold out. My—how you look this morning! You've got great black circles round your eyes. I don't blame you for not getting up earlier."
Sitting down at the table without noticing Laura further, she rattled on:
"That was some party last night! I know you didn't drink a great deal, but gee! what an awful tide Will had on! How do you feel?" Stopping short in her prattle, and looking at her friend, she exclaimed with concern: "What's the matter, are you sick? You look all in. What you want to do is this—put on your duds and go out for an hour. It's a perfectly grand day out. My Gaud! How the sun does shine! Clear and cold. Well, much obliged for the conversation. Don't I get a 'Good-morning,' or a 'How-dy-do,' or a something of that sort?"
"I'm tired, Elfie, and blue—terribly blue."
The caller rose, and, going up to her friend, said:
"Well, now, you just brace up and cut out all that emotional stuff. I came down to take you for a drive. You'd like it; just through the park. Will you go?"
"Not this morning, dear; I'm expecting somebody."
"A man?"
In spite of herself, Laura could not restrain a smile.
"No—a gentleman," she corrected.