XIII. “UNTIL TO-MORROW”

On the following Tuesday afternoon, toward five o'clock, I descended from

my apartment on my way to my brougham. In the entrance hall I met Monson

coming in.

“Hello, you!” said he. “Slipping away to get married?”

“No, I'm only making a call,” replied I, taking alarm instantly.

“Oh, is _that_ all?” said he with a sly grin. “It must be a mighty

serious matter.”

“I'm in no hurry,” said I. “Come up with me for a few minutes.”

As soon as we were alone in my sitting-room, I demanded: “What's wrong with

me?”

“Nothing--not a thing,” was his answer, in a tone I had a struggle with

myself not to resent. “I've never seen any one quite so grand--top

hat, latest style, long coat ditto, white buckskin waistcoat,

twenty-thousand-dollar pearl in pale blue scarf, white spats, spotless

varnish boots just from the varnishers, cream-colored gloves. You

_will_ make a hit! My eye, I'll bet she won't be able to resist you.”

I began to shed my plumage. “I thought this was the thing when you're

calling on people you hardly know.”

“I should say you'd have to know 'em uncommon well to give 'em such a

treat. Rather!”

“What shall I wear?” I asked. “You certainly told me the other day that

this was proper.”

“Proper--so it is--too damn proper,” was his answer. “That'd be all right

for a bridegroom or a best man or an usher--or perhaps for a wedding guest.

It wouldn't do any particular harm even to call in it, if the people were

used to you. But--”

“I look dressed up?”

“Like a fashion plate--like a tailor--like a society actor.”

“What shall I wear?”

“Oh, just throw yourself together any old way. Business suit's good

enough.”

“But I barely know these people--socially. I never called there,” I

objected.

“Then don't call,” he advised. “Send your valet in a cab to leave a card

at the door. Calling has gone clean out--unless a man's got something very

especial in mind. Never show that you're eager. Keep your hand hid.”

“They'd know I had something especial in mind if I called?”

“Certainly, and if you'd gone in those togs, they'd have assumed you had

come to--to ask the old man for his daughter--or something like that.”

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