Suddhoo, Mrs. Hawksbee, and Mulvaney with a little cuddling
movement of satisfaction.

"There is only one thing I regret about this," she said to Condy
Rivers on the Friday night of that week; "that is, that I never
thought of doing it before." Then suddenly she put up her hand to
shield her eyes, as though from an intense light, turning away her
head abruptly.

"I say, what is it? What--what's the matter?" he exclaimed.

Blix peeped at him fearfully from between her fingers. "He's got
it on," she whispered--"that awful crimson scarf."

"Hoh!" said Condy, touching his scarf nervously, "it's--it's very
swell. Is it too loud?" he asked uneasily.

Blix put her fingers in her ears; then:

"Condy, you're a nice, amiable young man, and, if you're not
brilliant, you're good and kind to your aged mother; but your
scarfs and neckties are simply impossible."

"Well, look at this room!" he shouted--they were in the parlor.
"You needn't talk about bad taste. Those drapes--oh-h! those
drapes!! Yellow, s'help me! And those bisque figures that you get
with every pound of tea you buy; and this, this, THIS," he
whimpered, waving his hands at the decorated sewer-pipe with its
gilded cat-tails. "Oh, speak to me of this; speak to me of art;
speak to me of aesthetics. Cat-tails, GILDED. Of course, why not