"It's all right," she said sweetly. "Jimmy's going to get it."

Aggie looked at her sceptically. "Goodness knows I hope so," she said,

then added in despair, "Look at your cheeks. They're flaming."

Once more the powder puff was called into requisition, and Zoie turned a

temporarily blanched face to Aggie. "Is that better?" she asked.

"Very much," answered Aggie, "but how about your hair?"

"What's the matter with it?" asked Zoie. Her reflection betrayed a

coiffure that might have turned Marie Antoinette green with envy.

"Would anybody think you'd been in bed for days?" asked Aggie.

"Alfred likes it that way," was Zoie's defence.

"Turn around," said Aggie, without deigning to argue the matter further.

And she began to remove handfuls of hairpins from the yellow knotted

curls.

"What are you doing?" exclaimed Zoie, as she sprayed her white neck and

arms with her favourite perfume.

Aggie did not answer.

Zoie leaned forward toward the mirror to smooth out her eyebrows with

the tips of her perfumed fingers. "Good gracious," she cried in horror

as she caught sight of her reflection. "You're not going to put my hair

in a pigtail!"

"That's the way invalids always have their hair," was Aggie's laconic

reply, and she continued to plait the obstinate curls.

"I won't have it like that!" declared Zoie, and she shook herself free

from Aggie's unwelcome attentions and proceeded to unplait the hateful

pigtail. "Alfred would leave me."

Aggie shrugged her shoulders.

"If you're going to make a perfect fright of me," pouted Zoie, "I just

won't see him."

"He isn't coming to see YOU," reminded Aggie. "He's coming to see the

baby."

"If Jimmy doesn't come soon, I'll not HAVE any baby," answered Zoie.

"Get into bed," said Aggie, and she proceeded to turn down the soft lace

coverlets.

"Where did I put my cap?" asked Zoie. Her eyes caught the small knot of

lace and ribbons for which she was looking, and she pinned it on top of

her saucy little curls.

"In you go," said Aggie, motioning to the bed.

"Wait," said Zoie impressively, "wait till I get my rose lights on the

pillow." She pulled the slender gold chain of her night lamp; instantly

the large white pillows were bathed in a warm pink glow--she studied

the effect very carefully, then added a lingerie pillow to the two

more formal ones, kicked off her slippers and hopped into bed. One more

glance at the pillows, then she arranged the ribbons of her negligee to

fall "carelessly" outside the coverlet, threw one arm gracefully above

her head, half-closed her eyes, and sank languidly back against her

pillows.




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