Through the lace of the new curtains I could see a slim woman in some sort of uniform, as she dismounted from the driver's seat. The car was one of those low-hung, long-chassised affairs with tool box and tires on the running board, solid wheels, no top and no windshield--a tremendously sporty affair. The chauffeuress wore heavy dust goggles and thick gloves, and over the smart uniform, the skirt of which did not quite cover her knees, a linen duster was worn rakishly. Whistling a little tune of the type popularly known as jazz she shut off the motor and came up the front steps, letting herself in with a latchkey. By this time I was fairly overcome with curiosity as to who this young house guest of my sister's might be, and to my great delight she came directly into the drawing-room. When she caught sight of me she stopped dead in her tracks. "Good Lord! Freedom Talbot!" she exclaimed. Then she removed the goggles with one hand and held out the other like a frank boy. "Glad to see you, old thing!" she said heartily. It was Euphemia! Somehow or other I tottered to a chair and sank into it, calling feebly for "Water! Water!" "Water! Stuff and nonsense!" said Euphemia. "A little brandy is what you need! Here you are!" She held something to my lips and gratefully, but expecting at any moment to awaken from my dream, I drank. "I carry it in my emergency kit," Euphemia was explaining. "Need it sometimes in my work with the boys!" "With the boys?" I asked feebly. If she had forthwith produced, like Galadia, a set of triplets and a single, I should not have been more astonished. In point of fact I was not capable of further astonishment because she had already taken all the astonishment I had. "Oh! I forgot. You wouldn't know, of course!" she said briskly. "Reconstruction work. I'm on the ambulance--take 'em out for a ride from the hospital and all that. Well, how are you now? Better?" "I'm as much better as I ever shall be after seeing you in the costume, Euphemia!" I said severely. "I'm surprised at you, I really am!" "You have nothing on me!" she retorted. "I'm as surprised at you as you could possibly be at me. Look at the opportunities you have had--look at the places you have been--the money you have earned--and then look at the clothes you have on!" "What is the matter with my clothes?" I gasped, outraged at her. But laughingly Euphemia got to her feet and coming over to me lifted my reticule. "Same old bag!" she said. "Full of junk, I suppose! Same old dress--actually the same one, I do believe! And that curled fringe. Really, my dear, at your age they are ridiculous!" "At my age!" I fairly squeaked with indignation. "Yes--you are far too young for them!" she went on calmly. "As for those gloves and those shoes! Really, Free, it's too much! I don't understand it, really!"