TRYING ON.
"I am going to London," I said.
"Going to London?" said the lady of the house. "What for?"
"To live a double life," I said. "Many men do it and are never found out till they have been dead quite a long time. I'm going to begin to-day, and first I'm going to call on my tailor."
"But you can't call on your tailor in those clothes."
"Why not?" I said. "He made the clothes, and the least he can do is to look at them after I've worn them all these years."
"Dad's going to London in his old brown suit," said Helen to Rosie, who had just entered the room.
"Oh, but he simply can't," said Rosie in a shocked voice.
"I like the suit," said Peggy. "The trousers are so funny."
"They do bag at the knees," I admitted. "But then all sincere and honourable trousers do that. There is, of course, an unmanly variety that never bags and always keeps a crease down its middle, but you wouldn't have me wear those—now would you?"