all I know, it will be beautiful to wear a bonnet like a sitz-bath at the back of your head. Art has nothing to do with a smart frock, and whether a high-heeled pointed shoe commends itself or not to the painters in the quarter, it’s the only thing in which a woman’s foot looks really nice.”
Susie Boyd vowed that she would not live with Margaret at all unless she let her see to the buying of her things.
“And when you’re married, for heaven’s sake ask me to stay with you four times a year, so that I can see after your clothes. You’ll never keep your husband’s affection if you trust to your own judgment.”
Miss Boyd’s reward had come the night before, when Margaret, coming home from dinner with Arthur, had repeated an observation of his.
“How beautifully you’re dressed!” he had said. “I was rather afraid you’d be wearing art-serges.”
“Of course you didn’t tell him that I insisted on buying every stitch you’d got on,” cried Susie.
“Yes, I did,” answered Margaret simply. “I told him I had no taste at all, but that you were responsible for everything.”
“That was the least you could do,” answered Miss Boyd.
But her heart went out to Margaret, for the trivial incident showed once more how frank the girl was. She knew quite well that few of her friends, though many took advantage of her matchless taste, would have made such an admission to the lover who congratulated them on the success of their costume.
