"There'll be roses and violets and little pink lights and chicking salad and conservatories and fountings all lit up. And what'll you and her talk about, Mr. V.V., with the band playing kind of soft and settin' behind some rubber-plants like?"
"Probably something for her own good," said Mr. V.V., with a close-set mouth; leaving Kern to reflect that that was a funny way to talk at a party.
Mrs. Garland rushed in with a steaming pan, and plumped down on her knees at the unshone feet. The little girl prattled on. But the tall doctor, on his own word, had relapsed abruptly into a brown study....
"It sags a little in front," Kern was saying. "Lemme just get my hand on the buckle a minute. Mr. V.V., what makes you look so mad, kind of?"
The young man started a little.
"I was thinking," said he, "that life is hard at times."
"It's truth, Doctor.... Hadn't his negtie ought to be tightened up a weeny bit, Kern, now?" said Mrs. Garland harshly, staring up from her adoring position. "Not but I think the shine of his gool' collar-button ain't pretty...."
When Mr. V.V. and his gala raiment were gone, Kern skipped into his bedroom and hastily tackled the marked disorder there prevalent. She thought that an extra minute or so stolen for this purpose would not really be so very wrong. Care of the rooms was strictly included in the boarder's twenty dollars a month, but Kern was not thinking of it that way exactly.