"Yes."
"That's a dear. I'm going up to lie down. Don't let the children come to my room and wake me, will you, dear?" she added as she started languidly upstairs.
"But, Harriet!"
"What?" Harriet asked, not stopping.
"I accepted Aunt Virginia's invitation and she is coming out in her motor for me!"
"Too bad! I'm awfully sorry. You'd better 'phone at once or she will be offended. Tell her that as we are much too poor to buy tickets for the theatre, we can't possibly refuse to use them on the rare occasions when they're given to us!" Harriet laughed as she disappeared around the curve of the winding stairway.
Margaret sprang after her. "Oh, Harriet! I can't give it up!" Her voice was low and breathless.
"But if you 'phone at once Aunt Virginia won't be cross. You know, dearie, you shouldn't make engagements without first finding out what ours are." And Harriet moved on up the stairs to her bedroom.
Margaret was ashamed of her childishness when at dinner that evening Walter, her brother-in-law, inquiring, in his kind, solicitous way, the cause of her pallor and silence, she burst out crying and rushed from the table.
Walter, looking shocked and distressed, turned to his wife for an explanation. But Harriet's face expressed blank astonishment.