Page:Minnie Flynn (1925).pdf/88

 "You'd think I had whooping cough to hear me go on," she said as she sank onto the bench, "when all I've got is just a little tickling in my throat—a touch of bronchitis."

The girls exchanged significant glances, but no one spoke. Minnie didn't know whether the silence was cruel or kind. She wanted to break it but could think of nothing adequate to say.

The entrance of Mrs. Skerrit, the wardrobe woman, came as a great relief for in the scramble that followed Eleanor was forgotten.

"Who gets the riding habit?" Mrs. Skerrit asked.

"I do," Alicia took it and held it up. "I'll bet it's a lousy fit," she said, and all the girls laughed. "Lousy" was a new word in the vocabulary of the moving picture people. They all thought it a splendid, expressive appellation, so it had traveled from one studio to the other.

Mrs. Skerrit paid no attention to her.

"Who wears the Spanish costume?"

"I do. Got a comb and lace thingamajig to go with it?"

"You mean a lace mantilla to drape over the comb? Yes, I've got it here. Don't snatch, please."

Minnie watched with childish longing as Mrs. Skerrit distributed the costumes. There was a beautiful satin bridal gown embroidered with pearls, and Minnie's hand reached out to touch it, lingering on its delicate surface.

"Do I get a costume, too?" she asked Mrs. Skerrit. "I'd be glad to wear anything that you'd pick out for me."

Mrs. Skerrit's eyes opened with amazement.

"What do you mean, child, you'd wear anything?"

"Oh, nothin'," answered Minnie, realizing she had made a mistake, "only they're much prettier than any costumes I've ever seen."

A snicker rippled around the room.