Rewriting the dramatic club article proved more of a task than Dorothy had bargained for; thoughts of Vera, of Bruce Brainard, and last—of Hugh Wyndham, projected themselves before the typed words, and in desperation she seized the scissors and, shortening the manuscript, she pasted the remainder on her copy paper. She was busy marking her copy when the telephone bell called her back to the instrument.
“Good evening, Miss Deane,” said a soft, purring voice, which Dorothy instantly recognized as belonging to a well-known society belle, who had seen more seasons than she was willing to admit. “For particular reasons I am anxious to attend the breakfast tomorrow which the Japanese Ambassador is giving. Can’t you use your influence to get me an invitation?”
“But I have no influence in that quarter,” protested Dorothy. “The invitations are strictly limited to members of the Cabinet and their wives.”
“Oh! Don’t you know any way by which I can procure an invitation?”
“I see no way for you to be eligible for an invitation unless you can marry the Attorney General, the only bachelor in the Cabinet circle, before ten o’clock,” retorted Dorothy, her sense of fun getting the better of discretion. A faint “Oh!” preceded the hanging up of the opposite receiver, and Dorothy went back to her work. But she was again doomed to interruption, and this time she answered the telephone with a wrathful, “Well, what is it?”
“Mrs. Marvin, Dorothy,” sounded a cheerful voice. “I want you to take down this list of patronesses for our charity ball. Get your pencil—there are one hundred names.”
“Oh, Mrs. Marvin!” gasped Dorothy. “Can’t you send them into the office? I’ll pay the messenger.”
“I haven’t time to write them out,” declared Mrs. Marvin firmly, and Dorothy jabbed her pencil with vicious force into the pad as she started to take down the names. “Hello, don’t ring off,” called Mrs. Marvin at the end of five minutes. “Remember, Dorothy, those names must appear in tomorrow’s paper, and be sure and give us an excellent send-off; it’s for charity, you know.”
“Yes, yes, good-by,” and, dropping the receiver, Dorothy rubbed her aching ear and stiff arm.
“Taking one consideration with another, with another,