And she yawned excitedly. From somewhere far in the distance there came
to her ears the dull bellowing roar of an ocean liner leaving dock at
one o'clock to start the long journey over the sea.

"I'm going to Paris, too!" she resolved. Her fancy travelled over the
ocean and roamed madly for awhile, with the help of many photographs
which she had seen in magazines. But she wearied of that and soon
returned.

"Well, what do I think of Amy's home?"

She went over in her memory her eager inspection of the apartment. The
rooms had been dark when they arrived; for they had not been expected so
soon, and a somewhat dishevelled Irish maid had opened the door and let
them in. With a quick annoyed exclamation, Amy had switched on the
lights; and room after room as it leaped into view had appeared to
Ethel's eyes like parts of a suite in some rich hotel. And although as
her sister went about moving chairs a bit this way and that and putting
things on the table to rights, it took on a little more the semblance of
somebody's home, still that first impression had remained in Ethel's
mind.

"People have sat in this room," she had thought, "but they haven't lived
here. They haven't sewed or read aloud or talked things out and out and
out."

To her sister she had been loud in her praise. What a perfectly lovely
room it was, what a wonderful lounge with the table behind it, and what
lamps, what a heavenly rug and how well it went with the curtains! When