politely before us, with a look of trained and admirable deafness.
"Ah, Miss Lansdale," said Solon, urbanely, "I was just about to speak of you."
"Dear me!" said the young woman, simply. I thought she was aghast.
"Yes—but it's not worth repeating—or finishing."
Miss Lansdale seemed to be relieved by this assurance.
"And now I must hurry off," added Solon.
"Good evening!" we both said.
It seemed to be of a stuff from which curtains are sometimes made, white, with little colored figures in it, but the design would have required at least a column of the most technical description in a magazine I had subscribed for that summer. There was lace at the throat, and I should say that the thing had been constructed with the needs of Miss Lansdale's slender but completed figure solely and clearly in mind.
