Carmella Commands
“I thought you were most as old as dad,” said Carmella.
Dixon laughed aloud.
“And how old’s your dad?” he asked.
“Thirty-five, I think. He’s a war veteran. Are you?”
“No!” said Dixon, glumly.
“Why not?”
“They held the war too early. I wasn’t old enough in nineteen-eighteen.”
“Oh!” There was a note of sympathy in Carmella’s voice.
They drove on in silence, until the machine was turning from the boulevard into Laurel Avenue, on which the Barrington home faced. Then Carmella asked:
“How do these Barrington people dress for lunch, Mr. Dixon?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, do they dress up, like they do for evening dinner? I read in the paper that their kind of people have dinner at night. How about lunch. Do they dress up?”
“Not so you’d notice it. They don’t dress up any more than nothing at all. Whatever they happen to be wearing. I’ve even seen Mrs. B. eating lunch in her riding togs. You’re dressed all right, kid, if that’s what’s worrying you. You look like a four-hundred, if you want to know.”
[79]
