"KATE! You're wanted on the 'phone!"
'Phone! Why couldn't Carrie say telephone?
"Who is it, Carrie? I'm right in the middle of my mayonnaise."
"It's Charlotte. Hoagland wants to know whether he should wear his Tuxedo to-night?"
"Tell her no; we're not going to dress up. Carrie! Wait a minute—I'll just have to speak to her. . . . Hello, Charlotte!"
"Oh, Aunt Kate, Hoagland"
"We're not going to dress up—at least, I'm just going to wear my blue. Charlotte"
"Sonny Boy, let pussy alone! Let her alone, lover! . . . Yes, Aunt Kate? I'm listening, I was just . . . Sonny Boy Driggs, did you hear what mother said?"
"Charlotte, they're here!"
"Are they? Well, that's nice."
"Oh, Charlotte, come early!"
It was too queer to hear them moving about in her room, to hear a sudden burst of soft laughter. Her hands shook as she brushed her hair. Usually she rolled it up, pushed in three shell hairpins, and let it go, but to-night she was so nervous she used two packages of invisible hairpins beside.
