Maybe you remember that pair? Sappy Westlake, anyway. He's the noble, fair-haired youth that for a long time Auntie had all picked out as the chosen one for Vee, and he hung around constant until one lucky day Vee had this Doris Ull come for a visit.
Kind of a pouty, peevish queen, Doris was, you know. Spoiled at home, and the job finished at one of these flossy girls' boardin'-schools where they get a full course in court etiquette and learn to call the hired girl Smith quite haughty.
But she looked good to Westy, and, what with the help Vee and I gave 'em, they made a match of it. Months ago that must 'a' been, nearly a year. So I signals a fray-juggler to pull up more chairs, and we has quite a reunion.
Seems they'd been on a long honeymoon trip: done the whole Pacific coast, stopped off a while at Banff, and worked hack home through Quebec and the White Mountains. Think of all the carfares and tips to bell-hops that means! He don't have to worry, though. Income is Westy's middle name. All he knows about it is that there's a trust company downtown somewheres that handles the estate and wishes on him quarterly a lot more'n he knows how to spend. Beastly bore!
"What a wonderful time you two must have had!" says Vee.
Doris shrugs her shoulders.
"Sightseeing always gives me a headache," says she. "And in the Canadian Rockies we nearly froze. I was glad to see New York again. But one tires of hotel life. Thank goodness, our house is ready at last. We moved in a week ago."
"Oh!" says Vee. "Then you're housekeeping?"
Doris nods. "It's quite thrilling," says she. "At ten-thirty every morning I have the butler bring me Cook's list. Then I 'phone for the things myself. That is, I've just begun. Let me see, didn't I put in to-day's order in my—yes, here it is." And she fishes a piece of paper out of a platinum mesh bag. "Think of our needing all that—just Harold and me," she goes on.
"I should say so," says Vee, startin' to read over the items. "'Sugar, two pounds; tea, two pounds—'"