"
"It's not Camellia's clothes that bother me now," said Hepatica
thoughtfully, "so much as the formality of her style of entertaining.
My dear, she has a butler."
"How horrible!" I agreed. "Can I hope to please the eye of the butler?"
"Camellia's husband is a downright good fellow," said the Skeptic
warmly. "The fuss and feathers of his wife's hospitality can't
prevent his giving you the real thing. Even Philo likes to go
there--particularly when Camellia is away. I presume Philo's
invited now?"
"So she says," assented Hepatica, studying her note again, with a care
not to look at me which made me quite as self-conscious as if she had.
Why the dear people will all persist in thinking things which do not
exist! Of course I was glad the Philosopher was to be there. What
enjoyment is not the keener for his friendly sharing of it? But what of
that? Has it not been so for many years?--and will be so, I trust, for
all to come.
* * * * *
Hepatica and I packed with care, selecting the most expensive things we
owned.
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