Miss Rose began nervously pulling her corn-colored hair into the
latest plastered effect on her temples. "This isn't any appointment. I
wonder if somebody asked for me, or if Rumley--"

"Well, kid her along, whoever she is, and talk a lot about her good
points. You never can tell when some old girl is going to pull a lot
of patronage your way," the fat girl advised practically. "Tell 'em
your name and suggest that they call for you next time. You've got to
get wise to the trick of holding what you get. Beat it, kiddo--being
slow won't help you none with Rumley, and she's got the axe,
remember."

Thus adjured, Miss Rose beat it, arriving rather breathlessly at her
chair, which was occupied by a rather sprightly looking woman with
pretty hands and a square jaw and hair just beginning to gray over the
temples. She had her hat off and was regarding herself seriously in
the mirror, wondering whether she should touch up the gray, as some of
her intimate friends advised, or let it alone as her brother Fred
insisted.

Miss Rose was too busy counting customers to notice who was in her
chair until she had come close.

"Why, hello, Kate," she said then. "I was just wondering what had
become of you."

"Oh, I've been so busy, Marion. I just had to _steal_ the time today
to come. You weren't out to my reading last night, and I was afraid
you might not be well. Do you think that I ought to touch up my hair,