Sobs from the floor where Christabel had cast herself.
"Come, Christabel."
Heartbroken moans.
"You look so sweet in your costume; everyone said so when you wore it at Ernestine's party."
On the bed lay the chintz panniers and net fichu that might have represented Martha Washington or The Sweetest Girl in Dixie or just that faithful st-and-by, Old-fashioned Lady. With her face still hidden, Christabel kicked in its direction and cried in a muffled voice:
"I'd rather die!"
"Now, Christabel, get up and wash your face. Mother's simply astonished! A big girl like you! Nobody's going to notice your costume. Come"
"No! No! No-o-o!"
The front door slammed. Mr. Caine had come home early to accompany his ladies to
