ery maid in the house. I never
saw such a kitchen in all my life. Well, lead the way, Kit. I suppose
they are deep in bridge, or roulette, or something."

She was fixing her veil, and I saw I would have to tell her. Personally,
I would much rather have told her the house was on fire.

"Wait a minute, Bella," I said. "You see, something queer has happened.
You know this is the anniversary--well, you know what it is--and Jim was
awfully glum. So we thought we would come--"

"What are you driving at?" she demanded. "You are sea-green, Kit. What's
the matter? You needn't think I mind because Jim has a jollification to
celebrate his divorce."

"It--it was Takahiro--in the ambulance," I blurted. "Smallpox.
We--Bella, we are shut in, quarantined."

She didn't faint. She just sat down and stared at me, and I stared back
at her. Then a miserable alarm clock on the table suddenly went off like
an explosion, and Bella began to laugh. I knew what that was--hysteria.
She always had attacks like that when things went wrong. I was quite
despairing by that time; I hoped they would all hear her and come
downstairs and take her up and put her to bed like a Christian, so she
could giggle her soul out. But after a bit she quieted down and began to
cry softly, and I knew the worst was over. I gave her a shake, and she
was so angry that she got over it altogether.

"Kit, you are horrid," she choked. "Don't you see what a position I am
in? I am not going upstairs to face Anne and the rest of them. You can
just put me in the coal cellar."

"Isn't there a window you could get through?" I asked desperately.
"Locking the door doesn't shut up a whole house."

Bella's courage revived at that, and she said yes, there were windows,
plenty of them, only she didn't see how she could get out. And I
said she would HAVE to get out, because I was playing Bella in the
performance, and I didn't care to have an understudy. Then the situation
dawned on her, and she sat down and laughed herself weak in the knees.
Of course she wanted to stay, then, and see the fun out. But I was firm;
she would have to go, and I told her so. Things were complicated enough
without her.

Well, we looked funny, no doubt, Bella in a Russian pony automobile coat
over the black satin she had worn at the Clevelands' dinner, and I in
cream lace, the skirt gathered up from the kitchen floor, with Bella's
ermine pelerine around my bare shoulders, and dishes and overturned
chai