"She's had a good time!" he exclaimed, well pleased.
Julia was waiting for a guest in that weird institution which she called her club. The weird institution, however, had lost some of its weirdness and gained in comfort and cachet. It now boasted many members of distinction, new decorations and enlarged subscriptions. Miss Julia Winter sat in the mauve drawing-room under soft light, in the delicate glow of which her face took on suave and gentle lines, and her eyes held hints of womanly mystery. Before her, one of the many tables of the club drawing-room stood furnished with blue-and-white tea equipage. Behind her back, as she sat settled in the corner of a chesterfield, a fat silk pillow was crushed. For a picture of modern bachelor-womanhood which knew how to do itself thoroughly well, Julia could not, in these moments, have been excelled.
The door opened and a page, after assuring himself of Miss Winter's presence, announced: "Mrs. Kerr!"
A quiet and slender woman, in a shabby suit dated some six years ago, came to meet Julia listlessly. Her listlessness, however, was only bodily, for into her eyes some eager spirit had leapt and her hands went out involuntarily. They were engulfed in Julia's well-shaped large ones, and Marie was drawn down upon the mauve couch and the fat pillow made to transfer its amenities.
Each woman looked at the other with a long, careful look.
"How comfortable this is!" Marie observed.
"Is it, dear?" said Julia. "Lean back and rest. You look tired. Been shopping?"
"Just a few things for the children; I take the opportunity of being in town, you know."
"Did you come up this morning?"