Bernice hummed. “I’d like an old friend like that,” she murmured. “Wouldn’t you, Helen?”
“I thought he was awfully nice looking,” Helen agreed.
Bernice surveyed her wardrobe which was lying across her bed. “I guess I can make myself presentable for the evening,” she decided. Then she turned to Helen. “Can you?” she asked.
Helen stared at her. “But I’m not going anywhere,” she protested. “Meetings don’t start till morning, and I don’t know a soul in Washington. I’ll just slip down for some dinner and then curl up with a book....”
Bernice glared at her in mock severity. “Over my dead body,” she said. “No one comes to Washington and stays home reading. No one who knows me, anyhow. I’m going to do some phoning, and then you and I are going on a night tour of Washington.”
Helen sat down on the edge of her bed. “But I haven’t a thing to wear! I think you’re wonderful to ask me, but really....”
But Bernice was already speaking to a friend over the phone. “We’re two dateless waifs,” she said. “Two girls from the hinterland looking for some fun.” She winked at Helen. “Yes, Arnold, that will be perfect. We’ll be ready in an hour.”
She set down the phone. “You and I have dates tonight. With a Congressman’s son and friend.”
Helen stared at her. “You mean, just like that?”
Bernice smiled at her. “If you don’t really want to go ... if you’re really too tired....” she started, regretting her impulsiveness.