chorus of a once popular song.

Ruth sighed. Somehow, looking at her gentle and refined face, one
understood that a sigh, from her, was the only possible answer under the
circumstances. Not that the girl on the couch, with closed eyes, was
unrefined. But there was a wholesome air of good health about her that
caused one to think of a "jolly good fellow," rather than a girl who
needed to be helped on and off trolley cars.

"You _are_ tired," commented Ruth, after a pause. "Shall I make you a
cup of tea, dear? Or we could go over to Mrs. Dalton's, if you like. You
know she told us always to come in when we came from the theatre, and
have tea."

"No, dear, thank you. It's awfully good of you to offer, but I don't
want you to trouble. I'll be all right in a few minutes. I just want to
rest."

"It was a tiresome day; wasn't it, dear?"

"I should say so, 'and then--some,' as Russ would say."

"You shouldn't quote Russ when he uses slang," was the older girl's
rebuke.

"Can't help it, Ruth. That just seemed to fit. But you can't feel so
very rested yourself. You had some heavy parts today."

"Oh, I don't mind. I really was in love with that role of Lady Clarissa.
I always did like English plays, anyhow."