As she sat before a “burry,” clad in a blue, pinafore-like garment, from which emerged white silk sleeves to match the collar and yoke, her hand absently turning over a pile of notebooks, bound in green and blue and rose, she made a striking contrast to Hannah Vernon in a cinnamon coat and skirt, built for wear by a cheap tailor on the principle of “there or thereabouts.” Even the notebooks reflected the personality of their owners, for the one which Hannah carried was of the shiny black persuasion which seemed to proclaim that, being made for good solid work, it disdained the affectation of beauty. Plain Hannah’s little eyes twinkled affectionately at her old friend. She detached a pencil from a chain which dangled by her side, and said tentatively—
“Subtle—yes! Good biz! Let’s have a Subtler by all means.”
“I—was thinking—we might have something touching upon future possibilities. I’ve not quite got it yet, but something about brides and spinsters. Future brides—budding brides—beautiful brides.”
“Easy enough to have adjectives for the brides. Where do the spinsters come in?”
“Oh, one would have to infer—subtly, of course—that they would be spinsters! That would be adjective enough. Embryo spinsters—preparatory spinsters—p–p–probable spinsters. I have it! I have it! ‘Possible Brides against Probable Spinsters!’”
“Ha!” ejaculated Hannah, and drew her forefinger slowly down her nose. “Good! Top hole. Amusin’, but—injudicious? Shouldn’t mind one rap myself; lead off the Probables with a cheer. But, I fear me, there’d be brickbats floating in the air. How much would you take in coin of the realm to go up to Vera Ruskin and invite her to play for the spinsters? Personally I’d rather be excused.”
“I’d volunteer as a start! Love to do it!”
“Ye–es! Just so. Noble of you, no doubt; but unconvincing,” returned Hannah dryly. “No! It’s a fine suggestion in theory, but in practice I’m afraid it won’t work. I don’t want to imperil my popularity for good. Think of something a trifle less searching! Er—er—Slackers against—against what? Slackers against Swotters! How would that do for a change?”
Darsie curled her little nose.
“Dull! No scope. How would you dress?”