It was Evelyn, fair, tall, and somewhat severe.
"You are not very like a medical student," she said gravely.
"I should take that for an unmixed compliment, if I did not know what it meant."
"What does it mean?"
"That I am not in the least like Mona."
"Well, you are not, you know."
"True, ma belle. It was you who fitted on the lion's skin, not I. But did you come into my room just to tell me that?"
"I came to say that if you can be ready in ten minutes, Father will take us all to Monte Carlo."
"Ten minutes! Oh, Evelyn, and you have wasted one! What are you going to wear?"
"This, of course. What should I wear?"