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Patricia laughed as she too rose. "Bruce Haydon!" exclaimed Patricia, astonished. "Why, he's in Italy, isn't he? Elinor had a letter yesterday——" That settled it—I couldn't let a visiting girl be worn out with attention. Of course, I had planned to make a dignified debut under my own roof, backed up by the presence of ancestral and marital rosewood, silver and mahogany, as a widow should; but duty called me to de-weed myself amidst the informality of an impromptu soirée at the little town hotel. And in the fifteen minutes Tom gave me I de-weeded to some purpose and flowered out to still more. I never do anything by halves..
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Judith cocked her blond head thoughtfully. The words died on her tongue, as Elinor suddenly emerged from the portrait class door, her face radiant and with an exclamation of quick pleasure at the sight of them. "Patricia's spouting again," remarked Judith with the serene cruelty of extreme youth. "I didn't mind, because I'm used to it, but I guess Bruce is thankful you didn't keep us any longer, Elinor." "Yes, yes," whispered the girl, stepping into the room. "I got out of my bedroom window and escaped from my mother and Dido. I want to see Maurice.".
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