“But Flossy, I cannot imagine why you should want to do such a thing. It will certainly be too late to-night to try to get acquainted with her. I should think some time when you could have an unbroken evening would be the better for experimenting.”
“For some sorts of experimenting it would,” Mrs. Roberts answered, smiling quietly; “my experiment, in part at least, was to see how the pink room might impress her.”
“Flossy Shipley!”
When Gracie took refuge in that name her hostess knew she was not only much excited, but a trifle disapproving; at such times she made haste to change the subject.
It happened that the thing for which she had been planning, shaped itself so naturally as to give not the slightest color or premeditation to the act.
When Dirk and his sister worked their way through the dense crowds to the open air they discovered that it was raining heavily. For almost the first time in her life the fact struck terror to Mart Colson's soul! Ordinarily no duck could have been more indifferent to a rain storm than herself. On this evening she gave vent to her dismay in short, expressive words:
“Sallie's bonnet!” “And cape!” This last, after a moment's thought. “And shoes!” she added, as the magnitude of her troubles grew upon her.
Drawn up close to the sidewalk stood a carriage and a pair of horses that Dirk could not help giving admiring attention to, despite the rain. A fine horse always held his attention. No thought of the occupants of the carriage came to him, not even after a head leaned forward and a hand beckoned; of course it was beckoning to somebody else. Then a clear voice spoke:—
“Mr. Colson!”
He started quickly forward; there was but one person who ever said “Mr. Colson,” and besides, that voice belonged only to one.