Bureau-drawers, wardrobe, and closets were laid under contribution, and the Madame’s toilet began.
It had progressed to the putting on of her hat, when, glancing in the mirror, she suddenly changed her mind.
“Green doesn’t become me to-day,” she said, “why didn’t you tell me? Take it off at once.”
“Tell you? much good that would have done!” grumbled Mary, removing the obnoxious hat; “you wouldn’t have believed me.”
“Get out my black velvet hat and a black silk suit,” said her mistress, ignoring the impertinent rejoinder.
“You’ll not have time for your shopping if you wait to dress again, Madame,” objected the girl; “it is already half-past eleven, and the days are short. Your black velvet cloak and hat will not look amiss with the green dress.”
The Madame yielded to these suggestions all the more readily because at that moment a joyous bark from Frisky announced that the carriage was in waiting.
He sprang from the chair, rushed down to the outside door, and scratched and whined there till Kathleen ran down and opened it for him, when he immediately took possession of one half of the back seat, leaving the other for his mistress, who presently followed, having reached the lower floor, not by the stairs, but by the elevator, carefully lowered by the ever-ready Kathleen.
Mary, without whom the Madame never stirred from the house, took the front seat, a handsome afghan and wolf-skin were tucked carefully about their feet by Rory, and the carriage drove off.