Muriel sat down at the piano and began to play “Ta-ra-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,” singing, as her hands rattled over the keys,
“A sweet Tuxedo girl you see,
Queen of swell so‑ci‑e‑ty,
Fond of fun as fond can be,
When it’s on the strict Q.T.!”
Edith and Rosalie and Jane all joined uproariously in the chorus.
“Ta-ra-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!”
“That song,” said Mrs. Lester comfortably, as she picked up her knitting, “will always make me think of the World’s Fair.” The celebrated Columbian Exposition had been running all summer down in Jackson Park. Muriel slipped easily into “After the Ball,” the great band hit of the season. She sang the popular parody with pathos, as she played,
“After the Fair is over, what will Chicago do
With all those empty houses, run up with sticks and glue?
I’d rather live in Brooklyn (somebody’d know me there)
Than to live in Chicago, after—the—Fair.”
“We ought to go out there again some night for dinner,” said Rosalie, “before it gets too cold.”
Muriel stopped playing.
“Let’s go this week,” she said. “Let’s go tomorrow night.”
“Let’s have a party,” said Rosalie.
“Whom do you want to ask?” asked Mrs. Lester. “Besides Freddy.”
This was just like the Lesters. No sooner said than done.
“I don’t care,” said Rosalie. “Let Muriel have some kids. It’s her last fling. School begins next week.”
“Flora,” said Muriel promptly, “and Jane, of course, and Teddy Stanley—he’s just crazy about Flora—and Bob Withers for me and—when does André get home, Jane?”
“I don’t know,” said Jane. And she really didn’t. He hadn’t said in his last letter from Paris. Jane hadn’t seen André for three months.
“He’s got to be back for school,” said Muriel. “I’ll give him a ring.”
“You’re not going, are you, Edith?” said Rosalie hopefully. Edith looked a little undecided. “It’s a tiring trip.”
Edith was still looking undecided when the Lesters’ new butler appeared in the door.
“Miss Jane Ward?” he asked hesitatingly. He hadn’t been there long enough to know Jane’s name. “You’re wanted on the telephone, miss.”
Jane got up in astonishment. She was very seldom wanted on the telephone anywhere. A call in someone else’s house was very exciting. Muriel went with her out into the back hall.
“Hello,” said Jane.
It was André’s voice. She knew it immediately. It wasn’t quite the same, though. A little huskier and deeper. It made Jane feel very queer to hear it. André really sounded like a man.
“Yes. It’s me,” she said ungrammatically.
“Who is it?” asked Muriel.
“I called up your house,” said André. “They said you were over at Muriel’s.”
“Yes. I am,” said Jane rather unnecessarily.
“I—I want to see you,” said André.
“Who is it?” asked Muriel, again.
“When did you get back?” said Jane politely.
“This noon,” said André.
“Well,” said Jane, “why don’t you come over?”
“Over to Muriel’s?” inquired André. His voice seemed a little doubtful.
“Oh, no,” said Jane quickly. “Over to my house. I’ll go home.”
“All right,” said André. “How—how are you?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” said Jane.
“Well,” said André, “I’ll be right over.”
“All right,” said Jane. She hung up the receiver.
“Who was it?” asked Muriel.
Jane turned to face her. She was laughing a little. She didn’t know why.
“It was André,” she said.
Muriel began to giggle.
“I thought you didn’t know when he was coming home.”
“I didn’t,” said Jane, and started for the door into the front hall.
“Where are you going?” asked Muriel.
“Home,” said Jane. “He’s coming over.”
Muriel seemed to think that was natural enough.
“Ask him to come tomorrow,” she said.
Jane was putting on her hat.
“All right,” she said. She was at the front door before she remembered her manners. She went straight back into the living-room, and shook hands with Mrs. Lester.
“I had a lovely time, Mrs. Lester,” said Jane. Mrs. Lester looked a little bewildered, but Jane didn’t stop to explain. It certainly wasn’t necessary. As soon as she reached the hall she heard Muriel giggling about it in the living-room.
“Is Isabel in?” asked Jane, as soon as Minnie opened the front door.
“No,” said Minnie.
“Is Mamma?” asked Jane.
“No,” said Minnie again.
“Minnie,” said Jane confidentially, “I’m going to have a caller.”
Minnie looked very much surprised.
“It’s André,” said Jane. “When he comes just take him into the library and say you will tell me. And, Minnie,” said Jane almost pleadingly, “don’t call up the stairs.”
This display of formality Jane felt she owed to André’s changed voice. She had been thinking of it ever since she had heard it. André must be very different. André had been away three months. André must have met lots of other girls, English ones and French ones, too, over in Europe. Still—he had telephoned her just as soon as he had arrived. Jane still laughed a little, excitedly all to herself, when she thought of that.
She ran up the stairs and hurried into her
