She sighed. "It isn't proper to entertain them on one foot, like a stork, either. Do be a dear, now, and find my slipper. I've worn myself to the bone, I positively have, hunting for it, and I'm in tears."
"Very well," he said. "I'll look, but why don't you take care of your things? The idea—"
She pouted a pair of red lips at him, slammed the door in his face, and began singing joyously once more.
"What dress are you going to wear?" he called to her.
"That white one with all the chiffon missing."
"What has become of the chiffon?" he demanded, sternly.
"I must have stepped on it at the dance. I—in fact, I know I did."
"Of course you saved it?"
"Oh, yes. But I can't find it now. If you could only—"
"No!" he cried, firmly, and dashed down the stairs two steps at a time. From the lower hall he called up to her, "Wear the new one, and be sure to let me see you before he comes."