In another moment Polly, in a pretty negligée—one of the purchases of the previous afternoon—ran out of her room. Anne sat her upon a stool before the small stand and showed her how to hold the instrument.
“Hello!” whispered Polly, half afraid that something would pop out at her.
Eleanor had crept out of her room by this time, and stood back of Polly, grinning at her friend’s nervousness.
“Speak louder,” admonished Anne in Polly’s ear.
“Hello!” shouted Polly, trying to adjust her senses to the unfamiliar method of conversing with an unseen individual.
Then a merry laugh and a familiar voice sounded in her ear. Her face expressed amazement, then pleased surprise, and then excitement. She glanced up at Eleanor as the voice continued speaking.
“Oh, we’re so glad to hear you are in the city. Now we shall have lovely times!” exclaimed Polly, finally.
A joyous boy’s voice continued talking but suddenly it ceased, and Polly looked at Anne for an explanation. The telephone receiver began clicking strangely in her ear, and she held it at arm’s length in fear of what might be going to explode inside that queer tube.
Eleanor laughed and said, “Let me do the talking—it sounds like Jim Latimer—is it?”
“Yes, Ken and he landed from the West at midnight, and they are going to the Mardi Gras with us to-night.”