the dressmakers'; and just
because they were so many, and all feverishly fighting to get the same
things at the same time, they were all excited, happy and at ease. It
was the most momentous period of the year: the height of the "dress
makers' season."

Mrs. Vanderlyn had run across Susy Lansing at one of the Rue de la Paix
openings, where rows of ladies wan with heat and emotion sat for hours
in rapt attention while spectral apparitions in incredible raiment
tottered endlessly past them on aching feet.

Distracted from the regal splendours of a chinchilla cloak by the
sense that another lady was also examining it, Mrs. Vanderlyn turned in
surprise at sight of Susy, whose head was critically bent above the fur.

"Susy! I'd no idea you were here! I saw in the papers that you were with
the Gillows." The customary embraces followed; then Mrs. Vanderlyn,
her eyes pursuing the matchless cloak as it disappeared down a vista of
receding mannequins, interrogated sharply: "Are you shopping for Ursula?
If you mean to order that cloak for her I'd rather know."

Susy smiled, and paused a moment before answering. During the pause
she took in all the exquisite details of Ellie Vanderlyn's perpetually
youthful person, from the plumed crown of her head to the perfect arch
of her patent-leather shoes. At last she said quietly: "No--to-day I'm
shopping for myself."

"Yourself? Yourself?" Mrs. Vanderlyn echoed with a stare of incredulity.

"Yes; just for a change," Susy serenely acknowledged.

"But the cloak--I meant the chinchilla cloak... the one with the ermine
lining...."

"Yes; it is awfully good, isn't it? But I mean to look elsewhere before
I decide."

Ah, how often she had heard her friends use that phrase; and how amusing
it was, now, to see Ellie's amazement as she heard it tossed off in
her own tone of contemptuous satiety! Susy was becoming more and more
dependent on such diversions; without them her days, crowded as they
were, would nevertheless have dragged by heavily. But it still amused
her to go to the big dressmakers', watch the mannequins sweep by, and
be seen by her friends superciliously examining all the most expensive
dresses in the procession. She knew the rumour was abroad that she and
Nick were to be divorced, and that Lord Altringham was "devoted" to her.
She neither confirmed nor denied the report: she just let herself be
luxuriously carried forward on its easy tide. But although it was now
three mon