As she spoke, Rosalind shaded her eyes with her hand; her face looked full of sweet and thoughtful contemplation.
“Get your charming Prissie to flirt a little bit more,” said Miss Day, with her harsh laugh.
“I don’t know that I can. I must not carry that brilliant idea to extremities, or I shall be found out.”
“Well, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Bide my time.”
Miss Day gave a listless sort of yawn.
“Let’s talk of something else,” she said, impatiently. “What are you going to wear at the Elliot-Smiths’ party next week, Rose?”
“I have got a new white dress,” said Rose, in that voice of strong animation and interest which the mere mention of dress always arouses in certain people.
“Have you? What a lot of dresses you get!”
“Indeed, you are mistaken, Annie. I have the greatest difficulty in managing my wardrobe at all.”