“What was the matter?”
“Well, I'll leave it to you if this is n't unreasonable: she won't dance with me herself, yet don't like me to go it with anybody else. I said, I thought, if a fellow took a girl to a party, she ought to dance with him once, at least, especially if they were engaged. She said that was the very reason why she should n't do it; so, at the last hop, I let her alone, and had a gay time with Belle, and to-day Trix gave it to me hot and heavy, coming home from church.”
“If you go and engage yourself to a girl like that, I don't know what you can expect. Did she wear her Paris hat to-day?” added Fan, with sudden interest in her voice.
“She wore some sort of a blue thing, with a confounded bird of Paradise in it, that kept whisking into my face every time she turned her head.”
“Men never know a pretty thing when they see it. That hat is perfectly lovely.”
“They know a lady when they see her, and Trix don't look like one; I can't say where the trouble is, but there's too much fuss and feathers for my taste. You are twice as stylish, yet you never look loud or fast.”
Touched by this unusual compliment, Fanny drew her chair nearer as she replied with complacency, “Yes, I flatter myself I do know how to dress well. Trix never did; she's fond of gay colors, and generally looks like a walking rainbow.”
“Can't you give her a hint? Tell her not to wear blue gloves anyway, she knows I hate'em.”
“I've done my best for your sake, Tom, but she is a perverse creature, and don't mind a word I say, even about things much more objectionable than blue gloves.”
“Maudie, run and bring me my other cigar case, it's lying round somewhere.”