hree; and I'll be ready--yes,
_really_ ready. Good-by."

Dorothy hung up the receiver, yawned as daintily as a Persian kitten,
rubbed her eyes and rang the maid's bell. She smiled happily at the
golden sunlight that crept through the slit of the drawn pink curtains.
Another beautiful brand new day to play with, a day full of delightful,
adventurous surprises--a debutante's luncheon, a matinee, a the dansant,
a dinner, too. Dorothy swung her little white feet from under the covers
and crinkled her toes delightedly ere she thrust them in the cozy satin
slippers that awaited them; a negligee to match, with little dangling
bunches of blue flower buds, she threw over her shoulders with a
delicate shiver, as the maid closed the window and admitted the full
light of day. Hopping on one foot by way of waking up exercises, she
crossed to the dressing-table, dabbed a brush at her touseled hair, then
concealed it under a fluffy boudoir cap. She paused to innocently admire
her reflection in the silver rimmed mirror, turning her head from side
to side, the better to observe the lace frills and twisted ribbons of
her coiffe. Breakfast arrived, steaming on its little white and chintz
tray, and Dorothy smacked hungry lips.

"Oo--oo--how perfectly lovely--crumpets! and scrambled eggs! I'm
starved!" She settled herself, eagerly cooing over the fragrant coffee.
"Now, if only Mother were here," she exclaimed. "It's so lonely
breakfasting without her!"

But her loneliness was not for long. An avalanche of Aunt Lydia entered
the room, quite filling it with her fluttering presence. Tante Lydia's
morning cap was quite as youthful as that of her niece, her flowered
wrapper as belaced and befurbelowed as the lingiere could make it, and
her high heeled mules were at least two sizes too small, and slapped as
she walked.

"My dear," she bubbled girlishly, thrusting a stray lock of questionable
gold beneath her cap, "I thought I'd just run in and sit with you. I've
had my breakfast ages ago--indeed, yes--and seen the housekeeper, and
ordered everything. It was shockingly late when we got in last night, my
dear. I really hadn't a notion it was after three, till you came after
me into the conservatory. That _was_ a delightful affair last night, I
must say, even if Mrs. May _is_ so loud. She isn't stingy in the way she
entertains, like Mrs. Best's, where we were Wednesday. That was
positively a shabby business. Now, dear, what do we do to-day? I've