Page:Firecrackers a realistic novel.pdf/38

 The sound of a child's voice in the hall interrupted the possibility of making anything of it for the present.

O, Consuelo has returned from the matinée! Laura cried. Her Aunt Jessie offered to take her. It is so difficult to select a suitable play for a child to see nowadays that I just told Jessie to take her to whatever the. Theatre Guild was doing. They always present nice, clean plays, I've heard.

Why, Laura, she's only ten! Vera ejaculated.

Campaspe laughed outright.

What is the matter, Vera? Laura demanded. What are they playing at the Garrick?

Campaspe supplied the necessary information: Fata Morgana.

For her entrance Consuelo chose the moment that Laura had selected to exhibit her anguish. Opening the ivory-enamelled folding doors, the child paused for an instant on the threshold, long enough for her mother's callers to take in the exquisite picture. Long, curly, golden hair framed a pale and wistful face in which elusive, pansy-blue eyes were the most prominent feature. Consuelo was wrapped in a cloak of sable which did not quite reach her socks, permitting an inch or two of slender, bare leg to show. On her head she wore a sable toque and she carried a cluster of green orchids.

Maman, the child inquired, do I intrude?