"I don't care which, mother. My last one's all right. I don't want another." Again across the table from Julia: "That's a darling one you're wearing now!" "Do you like it, Aunt Julia?" "Sweet!" "And oh, Julia," suddenly in a little outburst from Madge, "honestly, now! Do you think I could wear those sleeves, or those not-any-sleeves-at-all rather--you know--the quite new ones, that show your arm from the very top of your shoulder? You _must_, of course, with your arms--it's your duty--but I'm not so sure about me----" "Stuff and nonsense, of course you can. And I'm certainly going to," Julia declared. "Bit French, aren't they?" said Alec over his canapé. "I've seen 'em." "He's seen 'em, Julia!" Madge laughed. "Don't tell me after that that a man doesn't notice what a woman has on--at any rate if there's as little of it as there is of those sleeves! But let's settle Jennie's frock first. _I_ think the voile. And you can wear a hat with it or not, just as you like." "Would you very much mind if I didn't go, mother?" said Jennie dejectedly. "Frightfully," was Madge's cheerful reply. "Of course you're coming. And all to-morrow morning we'll try-on, all three of us. So that's the voile for Jennie--and most decidedly those no-sleeves for you, Julia, with your arms----" IV The rest of the evening was the same: slightly false, slightly tremulous, a little off the note. I honestly believe that that "Aunt" Julia of Jennie's was a pure inadvertence, for she was far too low-spirited to be interested in anything but herself, her mood and her troubles. After dinner she went out into the garden alone, and Madge gave us a quick inclusive look. "Don't worry her, poor darling," she said with soft sympathy. "Let her have a good cry and she'll be all right to-morrow." "Let me go to her," said Julia. "I really wouldn't." "Very well if you think not. What about a rubber?" So Alec and Julia took fifteen shillings from Madge and myself while Jennie got over it in the garden.