"I like that," said Mabel. "Why--he talks about the most revolting things." "It’s his manners that are so wonderful," said Jean in a championing manner. They had found their shop by this time and were looking at white roses. When Mabel said, "Do you think these are nice?" Jean might be heard explaining, "It’s the method you know that is so wonderful." And when at last they had decided about roses and arranged about the lessons, Adelaide Maud thought she must immediately buy a hat. "I quite forgot that I wanted a hat," she said gravely. They went to one of the best shops, and sat in three chairs, with Adelaide Maud surrounded by mirrors. Tall girls sailed up like swans and laid a hat on her bright hair and walked away again. Adelaide Maud turned and twisted and looked lovely in about a dozen different hats. After looking specially superb in one, she would say. "Take that one away, I don’t like it at all." Occasionally the swans would put on a hat and sail about in order to show the effect. Then Adelaide Maud would look specially languid and appear more dissatisfied than ever. At last she fixed on one which contained what she called "a dead seagull." "Why you spoil that pretty hat with a dead bird, I can’t think," she exclaimed to the attendant. "Look at its little feet turned up." Then, "You must take this bird out, and give me flowers." She began pinning on her own hat again. In a second the bird was gone, and the swanlike personages sailing over the grey white carpet, brought charming bunches of which they tried the effect "for modom." "Oh, do get heliotrope," said Mabel. "It’s so gorgeous with your hair." Adelaide Maud swung round. "And I’ve been making up my mind to white for the last half-hour. How can you, Mabel!" She chose a mass of white roses, "dreaming in velvet." Adelaide Maud rose, gave directions about sending, and prepared to leave. "Don’t you want to know the price?" asked Mabel in great amazement. "Oh, of course." Adelaide Maud asked the price. The total took Mabel’s breath away. "You must never marry a poor man," said she as they passed out. Adelaide Maud stopped humbly in a passage of grey velvet and silver gilt. "Well, I never," she said. Then walking on, she asked in a very humble, mocking tone, "Will you teach me, Mabs, how to shop so that I may marry a poor man." Mabel laughed gaily. "Thank you," said she. "That sounds as though you think that I ought to know. Am I to marry a poor man?" Adelaide Maud laughed outright, and took her briskly by the arm. "I didn’t mean that. I believe you will marry a duke. But you see--you think me so extravagant, and I might have to be poor." "That dead seagull going cost you a guinea alone," said Mabel accusingly. "And they kept the seagull," said Adelaide Maud. "How wanton of me!" "I’ve had a very nice hat for a guinea," said Mabel, with a smirk of suppressed laughter.