"On condition that you felt like it. I represented you as coming home
decidedly fagged these hot nights and not always caring to stir."
"Wise schemer! I don't mind the aspersion on my physical being. She urged,
I suppose?"
"She did. I don't know why."
"I do." Anthony smiled down at his wife. "Everybody is a bit curious about
us these days. Your position, you see, is considered very extraordinary."
"Nonsense, Tony. Shall we go?"
"Possibly we'd better, though it racks my soul to think of dressing. The
less I wear my festive garments the less I want to. For that very reason,
suppose we discipline ourselves and go. Do you mind?"
"Not at all. We'll have to dress at once, for it's nearly eight now, and
by the time we have caught a train and got to Hollyhurst----"
"To be sure. Here goes, then."
Half an hour later Anthony, wrestling with a refractory cuff button,
looked up to see his wife at his elbow. She was very nearly a vision of
elegance and beauty; the lacking essential was explained to him by a voice
very much out of breath and a trifle petulant:
"If you care anything for me, Tony, stop everything and hook me up. I'm
all mixed up, and I can't reach, and I'm sure I've torn that little lace
frill at the back."
"All right. Where do I begin?"
"Under my left arm, I think--I can't possibly see."
"Neither can I." He was poking about under the lifted arm, among folds of
filmy stuff. "Here we are--no, we aren't. Does this top hook go in this
little pocket on the other side?"
"I suppose so--can't you tell whether it does by the look?"
"It seems a bit blind to me," murmured Anthony, struggling.
"It's meant to be blind--it mustn't show when it's fastened."
"It certainly doesn't now. Hold on--don't wriggle. I've got it now. I've
found the combination. Three turns to the right, five to the left, clear
around once, then--Hullo! I've come out wrong. The thing doesn't track at
the bottom."
"You've missed a hook."
"Oh, no. I hung onto 'em all the way down."
"Then you missed an eye. You'll have to unhook it all and begin again."
Anthony obeyed. "I'm glad I don't have to get into my clothes around the
corner this way," he commented. "Here you are. We stuck to the schedule
this time."
"Wait, dear. You haven't fastened the shoulder. There are ever so many
little hooks along there and around the arm hole."
"I should say there were. What's the good of so many?--Where do they
begin? Look out--wait a minute--Juliet, if you don't stop twisting around
so I never can do it. I can do great, heroic acts, it's the little trials
that floor me--There--no!--that doesn't look right."
Juliet ran to the mirror. "It isn't right," she cried. "Look--that corner
shouldn't lap over like that. Oh, if I could only reach myself!"
"You can't--I've often tried it. The human anatomy--Stand still,
Julie--you're getting nervous."
"If there's one thing that's trying----" murmured Juliet.
"Why do you let your dressmakers build your frocks this way? Why not get
into 'em all in front, where you can see what you're doing?--Now I've got
it. Isn't that right?"
"Yes. Wait, Tony--here's the girdle. It fastens behind."
Anthony surveyed the incomprehensible affair of silk and velvet ribbon she
put into his hands. "Looks like a head-stall to me," he said. Juliet
laughed and fitted it about her own waist. Anthony attempted to make it
join at the back of the points she held out to him.
"It won't come together," he said.
"Oh, yes, it will. Draw it tight."
"I am drawing it tight. It's smaller than you are. You can't wear it."
Juliet laughed again. Anthony tugged.
"Wait till I hold my breath," she said.
"_Great guns!_" he ejaculated, and by the exertion of much force fastened
the girdle. Then he stood off a step or two and looked at his wife
curiously. Flushed and laughing she returned his gaze.
"Can you breathe?" he asked solicitously.
"Of course I can."
"What with?"
"It is a little tight, of course," she admitted. "This is one of my
trousseau dresses. I've grown a little stouter, I suppose. Never mind, I
can stand it for to-night. Thank you very much. You must hurry now,
Tony."
"I haven't had my pay for playing maid," he said, and came close. He
surveyed his wife's fair neck and shoulders, turned her around and
deliberately kissed the soft hollow where the firm white flesh of her neck
met the waving brown hair drawn lightly upwards.
"That's the spot that tantalized me for about six years," he observed.
Hunting hurriedly through various drawers and boxes in the blue-and-white
room, in search of gloves and fan, Juliet heard her husband come in his
turn to her open door.
"Will you have the goodness to look at me?" he requested, in a melancholy
voice. Juliet turned, gave him one glance, and broke into a merry peal.
"Oh, Tony!--What's the matter? Have you been growing stouter, too?"
"It must be," he said solemnly.
His clawhammer coat was so tight across the shoulders that the strain was
evident. He was holding his arms in the exaggerated position of the small
boy who wears a last year's suit. Juliet revolved around her husband's
well built figure with interest.
"It does look tight," she said. "But have you grown heavier all at once?
It can't be long since you wore that coat before."
"Don't believe I have for months. It's been altogether frock-coats and
informals. I haven't been to an evening affair with ladies for a good
while."
"It doesn't look as it feels, I'm sure. It's getting very late--we ought
to be off," and Juliet gathered up her belongings and gave him a long
loose coat to hold for her which covered her finery completely.
"Now's the hour when I regret that I haven't a carriage for you," said
Anthony, as they descended the stairs. He got into his outer coat
reluctantly. "I shall split something around my back before the evening is
over," he prophesied resignedly.
"Never mind. Remember how tight my girdle is. It grows tighter every
minute."
They got out upon the porch and Anthony locked the door. "If I should show
that door-key to any man I know except Carey he would howl," he remarked,
holding up the queer old brass affair before he slipped it into his
pocket. He looked down at Juliet in the gathering June twilight. "Don't
you wish we didn't have to go?"
"Yes, I do," she agreed frankly.
"Let's not!"
"My dear boy! At this hour?"
"We could telephone."
"Shouldn't you feel rather ashamed to, so late?"
"Not a bit. But of course we'll go if you say so."
She laughed, and he joined her boyishly. She hesitated.
"If I see you looking faint in that girdle shall I throw a glass of cold
water over you?"
"Please do. If I hear a sound as of rending cloth shall I divert the
attention of the company?"
"By all means."
They were laughing like two children. Anthony sat down in one of the porch
chairs. He drew a long sigh. "I never hated to leave my dear home so since
I came into it," he said gloomily.
Juliet pulled off her coat. "If you'll do the telephoning I'll stay," she
said.
He jumped to his feet. "Let me loosen that girdle for you. I haven't been
breathing below the fifth rib myself since you put it on, just in
sympathy," he declared.