Lifted Masks | Page 5

not knowing what your wife likes or--or has.
This is the kind of thing everything has to go with or one wouldn't--one
couldn't--"
"Sure! Good idea. We'll just get everything to go with it."
"It's the sort of thing one doesn't see worn much outside of Paris--or
New York. If one is--now my mother wouldn't care for that coat at all."
Virginia took no little pride in that tactful finish.
"Can't sidetrack me!" he beamed. "I want it. Very thing I'm after,
Young Lady."
"Well, of course you will have no difficulty in buying the coat without
me," said she, as a dignified version of "I wash my hands of you." "You
can do here as you said you wished to do, simply go in and pay what
they ask. There would be no use trying to get it cheap. They would
know that anyone who wanted it would"--she wanted to say "have more
money than they knew what to do with," but contented herself with, "be
able to pay for it."
But when she had finished she looked at him; at first she thought she
wanted to laugh, and then it seemed that wasn't what she wanted to do
after all. It was like saying to a small boy who was one beam over
finding a tin horn: "Oh well, take the horn if you want to, but you can't
haul your little red waggon while you're blowing the horn." There
seemed something peculiarly inhuman about taking the waggon just
when he had found the horn. Now if the waggon were broken, then to
take away the horn would leave the luxury of grief. But let not shadows
fall upon joyful moments.
With the full ardour of her femininity she entered into the purchasing of
the yellow opera cloak. They paid for that decorative garment the sum

of two thousand five hundred francs. It seemed it was embroidered, and
the lining was--anyway, they paid it.
And they took it with them. He was going to "take no chances on losing
it." He was leaving Paris that night and held that during his stay he had
been none too impressed with either Parisian speed or Parisian veracity.
Then they bought some "Breezes from Paris," a dress that would "go
with" the coat. It was violet velvet, and contributed to the sense of
doing one's uttermost; and hats--"the kind you see some folks wearing."
One was the rainbow done into flowers, and the other the kind of black
hat to outdo any rainbow. "If you could just give me some idea what
type your wife is," Virginia was saying, from beneath the willow
plumes. "Now you see this hat quite overpowers me. Do you think it
will overpower her?"
"Guess not. Anyway, if it don't look right on her head she may enjoy
having it around to look at."
Virginia stared out at him. The oddest man! As if a hat were any good
at all if it didn't look right on one's head!
Upon investigation--though yielding to his taste she was still vigilant as
to his interests--Virginia discovered a flaw in one of the plumes. The
sylph in the trailing gown held volubly that it did not _fait rien_; the
man with the open purse said he couldn't see that it figured much, but
the small American held firm. That must be replaced by a perfect
plume or they would not take the hat. And when she saw who was in
command the sylph as volubly acquiesced that naturellement it must be
tout a fait perfect. She would send out and get one that would be oh! so,
so, so perfect. It would take half an hour.
"Tell you what we'll do," Virginia's friend proposed, opera cloak tight
under one arm, velvet gown as tight under the other, "I'm
tired--hungry--thirsty; feel like a ham sandwich--and something. I'm
playing you out, too. Let's go out and get a bite and come back for the
so, so, so perfect hat."

She hesitated. But he had the door open, and if he stood holding it that
way much longer he was bound to drop the violet velvet gown. She did
not want him to drop the velvet gown and furthermore, she would like a
cup of tea. There came into her mind a fortifying thought about the
relative deaths of sheep and lambs. If to be killed for the sheep were
indeed no worse than being killed for the lamb, and if a cup of tea went
with the sheep and nothing at all with the lamb--?
So she agreed. "There's a nice little tea-shop right round the corner. We
girls often go there."
"Tea? Like tea? All right, then"--and he started manfully on.
But as she entered the tea-shop she was filled with keen