Alexina, chaperoned by Harriet Blair, would have found herself in these things, yet never quite of them. "Malise," Molly said quite earnestly, a day or so after her coming, "don't you think it's stuffy here?" It was stuffy; hotel rooms in summer are apt to be; Alexina felt as apologetic as if Molly were the one who had given up a spacious, comfortable home to come and live in rooms for her. "I'm sorry," she said. She had explained the necessity for it before. "I thought you'd gotten the bank to take charge of your affairs," Molly reminded her; "so why do we have to stay?" "I have, but it's a different thing, very, from having Uncle Austen, personally--" She stopped; it might seem to be reminding Molly that she had caused the break with Austen Blair. But Molly never took disagreeable things personally. She threw her arms back of her head. "Can't you propose something to do?" she entreated. "We might go round to the stores," suggested Alexina doubtfully. She hated stores herself. Molly brightened. "I need some summer things." Alexina agreed, yet she wondered. Seven trunks can disgorge a good many clothes; "mere debris from the wreckage of things," Molly explained, though they didn't look it. Yet in a way Alexina understood. It wasn't the actual things Molly wanted; it was the diversion, and so at the suggestion Molly cheered up. "You look pretty in summer clothes, Malise," she stated with graciousness, as they started. On the way she went in and bought chocolates; not that she wanted them either--it was too hot for candy, she said--but one must be doing something. Coming out the door they met Georgy, who promptly stopped. He was a beautiful youngster, with a buoyant and splendid heartiness, and now he was flushing ruddily with pleasure up to his yellow hair. Alexina blushed, too; she hardly knew why, except that he did, and told his name to Molly, who regarded him with smiling eyes and gave him her hand, whereupon he blushed still more and then suggested that he go along with them. A group of young matrons and their daughters stood at the door of the shop to which they were bound, chatting in easy, warm weather fashion. Alexina knew them slightly but Georgy knew them well, and they were greeted with salutations and laughter. Molly smiled, too, an interested smile that brightened as she was introduced, and she remembered having known the mother of this one when she, Molly, had lived in Louisville before, and the husband of another one, and all the while she was letting her eyes smile from one to the other of the group, who meanwhile were telling Georgy that they were planning a dance. Dance? Molly's eyes grew inquiringly eager. Favors were they speaking of? She had a trunk full of Parisian knick-knacks, she told them. "Come around to the hotel," she suggested, "all of you: why not now?"