WHITEWASH
"I cancel your lecture tour, my dear. As I remarked before, your directness is startling. However, that does not alter my belief that you would be very happy married to the right man."
"But," objected Victoria, "how am I to know the right man ? They all say they are—and I don't know."
Mrs. Durham stamped her foot. "Go on to your Platonic rendezvous; there is no convincing you of obvious facts."
Victoria planted herself firmly before her chum. "Do you want to get rid of me, or do you think twenty-five is so old that you wish to provide for me as one sends a pauper to the old ladies home? I won't marry till I've found Galahad, Don Quixote, and Satan himself rolled into one. He'd be worth studying."
"And I'll bet you the proceeds of my next chef-d'œuvre," Mrs. Durham replied, "that you marry the most ordinary of mortals, and before you're five years older, too."
"Cassandra!" and Victoria shook her friend by the shoulders.
"Cassandra's prophecies were fulfilled, if you
