'I suppose it would,' said Anne. 'At least, it would if he had some glimmering of his own intentions. But he's in such a very undecided state.' 'Well, don't let's worry about his intentions. At any rate, he's coming to see me. The question is, what shall I wear?' 'It doesn't matter in the least. You attach a ridiculous amount of importance to dress.' 'Perhaps; but I must wear something. So what shall it be?' 'Well, if you want to look prepared for a proposal--so as to give him a sort of hint--you'd better wear your pale mauve dress. It's becoming, and it looks festive and spring-like.' 'Oh, Anne! Why, it's ever so much too smart! It would be quite ridiculous. Just like you, advising pale mauve _crepe de Chine_ and Irish lace for a quiet visit in the afternoon from a friend!' 'Oh! all right. Then wear your blue tailor-made dress--and the little boots with the cloth tops.' 'Oh, good heavens, Anne! I'm not going for a bicycle ride. Because I'm not got up for a garden-party, it doesn't follow I must be dressed for mountain-climbing. Cecil hates sensible-looking clothes.' 'Then I should think anything you've got would do. Or do you want to get a new dress?' 'Of course I want to get a new dress, but not for this afternoon. It wouldn't be possible. Besides, I don't think it's a good plan to wear something different every time you see a person. It looks so extravagant.' 'Wear your black and white, then.' 'No, it isn't _intime_ enough, and the material's too rough--it's a hard dress.' 'Oh! Funny, I had the impression you had more clothes than you knew what to do with, and you don't seem to have anything fit to wear.' 'Why, of course, I shall wear my blue voile. How on earth could I wear anything else? How silly you are, Anne!' 'Well, if you knew that all the time, why did you ask me?' 'Are there plenty of flowers in the studio?' 'Yes; but I'll get some more if you like.' 'No, no; don't have too many. It looks too _arranged_.' She looked at the clock. 'It won't be five just yet,' said Anne. 'It's only eleven.' 'Yes; that's the awful part. What on earth shall I do till then?' 'Whatever I suggested you would do the reverse.' 'Shall I go for a long drive in the motor?' 'That's a good idea.' 'But it's a very windy day, and I might get neuralgia--not feel up to the mark.' 'So you might. I think, perhaps, the best thing for you would be to have your hair waved.' 'How can I sit still to have my hair waved? Besides, it makes it look too stiff--like a hairdresser's dummy.' 'Ah! there is that. Then why not do something useful--go and be manicured?' 'I'm afraid I shouldn't have the patience today.' 'I suppose what you'd really like,' said Anne, 'would be to see Edith Ottley.' 'No, I shouldn't. Not till tomorrow. I don't want to see anybody,' said Hyacinth. 'Well, all right. I'm going out.' 'Oh, but I can't bear to be alone.' 'Then I scarcely see ...'