“I have yet to see one act or word on Marjorie Langdon’s part which you might not copy with impunity,” declared Mrs. Fordyce with decision. “And I have been thrown with her even more than you. No, it is someone else who is responsible for your sudden—flippancy,” hesitating for a word. A knock sounded on the boudoir door, and she called out: “Come in. Well, Perkins, what it is?” as the butler appeared in the doorway.
“Miss Calhoun-Cooper wishes to see Miss Janet a moment,” he replied.
“Sit still, Janet,” directed Mrs. Fordyce, as her daughter made a motion to rise. “Ask Miss Calhoun-Cooper to come up here, Perkins.”
“I thought you didn’t like Pauline?” said Janet in surprise, as the butler retreated down the hall to the elevator.
“You have just convinced me that I am leaving you too much with others, Janet,” dryly. “Hereafter I shall take pains to see more of your friends. Good morning,” as Pauline entered the room. “You are very good to come upstairs.”
“The idea of putting it that way, dear Mrs. Fordyce.” Pauline shook hands effusively with her, and kissed Janet warmly. “Please don’t let me disturb you; I only stopped to ask if Janet would care to go with me to see Kellar, the magician, on Friday afternoon.”
“Of course I will,” exclaimed Janet, heartily. “Thanks so much; I dote on Kellar.”
“Then you have seen him before?”
“Yes, a number of years ago. He’s sure to have some new tricks by this time; I had no idea he was coming to Washington.”
“Kellar is only giving this one matinée performance. Do you think your brother would care to go?”