"Don't," said Katie quickly. "No, Zelda, I'm not—suitable."
"Why not?"
"Oh, too old and worn," she laughed. "Bridesmaids should be buds."
"Showing up the full-blowness of the bride? Don't you think it!"
"So you hastened to get me!"
"Come now, Katie, you know very well why I want you. Why wouldn't I want you? Anyhow," she exposed it, "father wants you. Father thinks you're so nice and respectable, Katie."
"And so, for that matter," she added, "does my chosen joy-rider."
"I'm not so sure of his being particularly impressed with my respectability," replied Katie.
"He's always been quite dippy about you, Katie. I don't know how I ever got him."
Zelda spoke feelingly of the approaching nuptials of her old school friend. "Cal's considerable of a prissy, but take it from me, Harry Prescott will see that all father's money doesn't pour into homes for the friendless—so there's something accomplished. Heaven help the poor fellow who must live on his pay," sighed Zelda piously.