To-morrow "Morning they must be such company for you:" She walked lightly on to the butcher's, the grocer's—a banana for Benjie, because she was almost happy again.
"Good morning, Mrs. Roberts. I haven't seen you since Edith's wedding, to tell you how lovely it was! Where did they go? Oh—Washington— Good morning, Mrs. Harrison; that's very nice, isn't it? And those famous cherry trees ought to be in bloom now, oughtn't they? My two are in the south of France just now. Aren't they the lucky children? They write me that everything's in bloom, almond trees and sheets of forget-me-nots, and it's warm enough for bathing. Evelyn's very much at home in France, she's lived abroad so much, and Joe was there during the war, of course."
"Really, the way Mrs. Green's going on about Joe and his wife makes me smile," Mrs. Roberts said, bitterly, to Mrs. Harrison. "I guess no one in Westlake's been allowed to forget that they're in France! Amusing! . . . Mr. Turben, have you any eatable Potato chips? Those last were just plain soggy"
I believe I will have the parlor papered, Kate thought, pausing before the New Art Company's shop, with its three samples of wall paper in the window, a satin stripe with a cut-out frieze of wistaria, a brown imitation leather with a frieze of grapes, and the pattern of Little Bo-Peep and Little Boy Blue that Charlotte had in her nursery. I can do it all right if I make over my old voile and put off getting a new lawn
