I
understood from the chatter of your old friends that it _is_ dead and
gone. I can congratulate you on that proof of your newer wisdom, Lana. It
shows that my counsels haven't been entirely wasted on you."
"It was dead and gone before you began to counsel me, Doris. It's not a
matter of withholding confidence from you. Why should I talk about such
things to anybody?"
"Oh, a discreet display of scalp-locks decorates a boudoir and interests
one's friends," vouchsafed the worldly matron.
"Such confidences are atrocious!" Miss Corson displayed spirit.
"Now both of us are getting peppery, dear Lana, and I always reserve that
privilege exclusively for myself in all my friendly relations. I have to
keep a sharp edge on my tongue because folks expect me to perform the
social taxidermy in my set, and it's only brutal and messy if done with a
dull tool. Run and get your gloves! But take your own time in returning to
me. There are still two of my fingers that need a further period of
convalescence."
Mrs. Stanton promptly neglected her duties as a finger nurse the moment
Miss Corson was out of the room. "Hibbert, ask one of the servants to find
my brother and tell him I want to see him here.
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