The room promptly seethed with requests for Mr. Bernstein to sing his "Fireman" song. It seemed that Mr. Bernstein didn't want to. It seemed that he couldn't be coaxed or bribed to sing his "Fireman" song. It seemed that after all he would sing it.
Mr. Bernstein sang his "Fireman" song. Miss Eiden sang "The Sunshine of Your Smile." Mr. McDonald recited an Edgar Guest poem. Mr. Mont played Rachmaninoff's Prelude in G Minor.
Mr. Collins and Mr. Macy went up on the roof and talked about the coming baseball season as compared to the last.
The little variety program had not been completed when Maude McLaughlin dropped in for a minute or two. Ted was at her side and he caused a sensation with his tuxedo, derby and white scarf which showed just the correct amount of itself above the collar of his black overcoat. Maude was far less smart-looking than her escort. The gold net dress under her velvet wrap would have been several stains better for a cleaning, but this fact didn't make the girls in their plain, informal frocks feel any better.
She was quite cordial, however, despite her dressy clothes. She had a smile for everybody to whom Sue introduced her, and to some she even said a few words. Sue sent her most dependable messenger to the kitchen with an order for drinks.
"Maude McLaughlin just came in with her fellow," the messenger panted to Mrs. Cudahy. "Sue wants drinks right away."
"To hell with Maude McLaughlin and her fellow," said Mrs. Cudahy.
But the drinks arrived. Maude drank hers with a slow, unenthusiastic air. It seemed that she and Ted couldn't stay a minute. They were going on somewhere else. They
