“Steve comes from primitive people,” her aunt said, soberly, not realizing her own humour.
“Don’t mention it. Didn’t he force me to go to Virginia City, the most terrible little ghost world of tumbledown shacks and funny one-eyed, one-suspendered men, and old women smoking pipes and wearing blue sunbonnets! He was actually sentimental and enthusiastic about it all, trying to hunt up old cronies of his grandfather’s––I was cross as could be until we came back to Reno. Now Reno is interesting.”
She spent the better part of an hour describing the divorcees and their adventures.
“Well, I’m off for home. I think I shall entertain the Red Cross committee first of all. It’s only right, I believe”––the dove eyes very serious––“they’ve been under such terrible strains. I’m going to send a large bundle of clothes for the Armenian Relief, too. Oh, aunty, the whole world seems under a cloud, doesn’t it? But I met the funniest woman in Pasadena; she actually teed her golf ball on a valuable Swiss watch her husband had given her! She said her only thrills in life came from making her husband cross.”
“Was he––when he found it out?”
“No; she was dreadfully disappointed. He called her a naughty child and bought her another!”
When Beatrice reached the apartment she found Steve standing on the steps looking anxiously up and down the street.
“What’s happened?” he asked, half lifting her out of the car.
“Don’t! People will see us. I was telling aunty about Reno. Oh, it’s so good to be here!” as she came inside her own door. “I hope people will let me alone the rest of the day. I’m just a wreck.” She found a box of chocolates and began to eat them.