"I don't know what to make of Lise—she don't appear to have any principles…."
If the Wiley affair lasted longer than those preceding it, this was because former suitors had not commanded automobiles. When Mr. Wiley lost his automobile he lost his luck—if it may be called such. One April evening, after a stroll with Eda, Janet reached home about nine o'clock to find Lise already in their room, to remark upon the absence of Mr. Wiley's picture from the frame.
"I'm through with him," Lise declared briefly, tugging at her hair.
"Through with him?" Janet repeated.
Lise paused in her labours and looked at her sister steadily. "I handed him the mit—do you get me?"
"But why?"
"Why? I was sick of him—ain't that enough? And then he got mixed up with a Glendale trolley and smashed his radiator, and the Wizard people sacked him. I always told him he was too fly. It's lucky for him I wasn't in the car."
"It's lucky for you," said Janet. Presently she inquired curiously:
"Aren't you sorry?"
"Nix." Lise shook her head, which was now bowed, her face hidden by hair. "Didn't I tell you I was sick of him? But he sure was some spender," she added, as though in justice bound to give him his due.
Janet was shocked by the ruthlessness of it, for Lise appeared relieved, almost gay. She handed Janet a box containing five peppermint creams—all that remained of Mr. Wiley's last gift.