"I don't know what path it's verging on," was the reply, "but it isn't the primrose path of dalliance. There's some mystery in it."
"Go to Madame What's-Her-Name down at the hotel," said Flossie. "She has solved almost all the mysteries we used to have—for a consideration. And she is said to have superior facilities for observing this Great Brassfield Mystery of yours."
"I must!" replied Miss Scarlett, looking out of the window. "There's Billy Cox just going into his house! What a pity for a bachelor to have such a big house all to himself—it has filled me with sighs for the past week, that thought! Oh, girls, I've an idea! Let's call him over and have him take us down to her! Central! Give me 432, please. Is that you, Billy? This is Daisy. Don't you want to do something for me?—Oh, you behave, now! We want you to take us somewhere down town, so don't take off your coat. We'll explain when you come over. Good-by!"
"Well, of all things!" exclaimed Flossie. "I don't care about Mr. Cox, nor his big house! And the doctor and I have just started——"
"Oh, we can't go," said the doctor, "but that won't break Daisy's heart; she didn't expect we would, did you?"
"Well, I shall be sorry not to have you go, of course," said Miss Scarlett. "But if you must go, how would it do for you to slip away before Billy, comes in, so as to leave him to me? I may be able to make something of Billy, if I'm allowed to have my way with him. Must you go? So glad you called. Of course, we shall meet at our reception? Good-by!"
Madame le Claire looked amusedly down on Miss Scarlett. The bright-haired one was questioning her concerning her mystic art.
Could she see into the future?
Sometimes, when the conditions were right.
Could she read thoughts?