“Oh, Emily, I have just come from Dudevant’s. The hats don’t open to-day. She was going to send you word. It was a mistake of the printer’s. To-morrow is the day.”
“Then I will call for you to-morrow, Lucy,” said Emily. “And now, as it is late, we may as well go, mamma.”
“How cross Coolidge grows,” said Emily, as they drove off.
“Is any thing the matter, do you think,” inquired Mrs. Sutherland anxiously.
“No,” replied Emily, “nothing that I could see.”
The next morning, as Emily called at an early hour at her sister’s, as by appointment, Coolidge, who had not yet gone out, looked up and said pleasantly,
“Hats the order of the day, hey, Emily?”
And as Lucy rose hastily from the breakfast table and tied on hers, he added,
“That does look shabby enough, Lucy. Do get a white bonnet this time. I do like to see a woman in a white hat.”
“They soil too soon,” replied his wife, “and beside are only fit for full dress.”