one of those absurd pink muslin nightgowns, artfully designed
to look like crepe de chine. You've seen them rosily displayed in the
cheaper shop windows, marked ninety-eight cents, and you may have
wondered who might buy them, forgetting that there is an imitation mind
for every imitation article in the world.

Rose stooped, picked up a pair of silk stockings from the floor, and
ran an investigating hand through to heel and toe. She plucked a soiled
pink blouse off the back of a chair, eyed it critically, and tucked it
under her arm with the stockings.

"Did you have a good time last night?"

Floss yawned elaborately, stretched her slim arms high above her head;
then, with a desperate effort, flung back the bed-clothes, swung her
legs over the side of the bed and slipped her toes into the shabby,
pomponed slippers that lay on the floor.

"I say, did you have a g--"

"Oh Lord, I don't know! I guess so," snapped Floss. Temperamentally,
Floss was not at her best at seven o'clock on Monday morning. Rose did
not pursue the subject. She tried another tack.

"It's as mild as summer out. I see the Werners and the Burkes are
housecleaning. I thought I'd start to-day with the closets, and the
bureau drawers. You could wear your blue this morning, if it was
pressed."

Floss yawned again, disinterestedly, and folded her kimono about her.

"Go as far as you like. Only don't put things back in my closet so's I
can't ever find 'em again. I wish you'd press that blue skirt. And wash
out the Georgette crepe waist. I might need it."

The blouse, and skirt, and stockings under her arm, Rose went back to
the kitchen to prepare her mother's breakfast tray. Wafted back to her
came the acrid odour of Pa's matutinal pipe, and the accustomed
bickering between Al and Floss over the possession of the bathroom.

"What do you think this is, anyway? A Turkish bath?"

"Shave in your own room!"

Between Floss and Al there existed a feud that lifted only when a third
member of the family turned against either of them. Immediately they
about-faced and stood united against the offender.

Pa was the first to demand breakfast, as always. Very neat, was Pa, and
fussy, and strangely young looking to be the husband of the grey-haired,
parchment-skinned woman who lay in the front bedroom. Pa had two manias:
the movies, and a passion for purchasing new and complicated household
utensils--cream-whippers, egg-beaters, window-clamps, lemon-squeezer