"She's--are you eight or nine, Julia?"
"She sho' don't look more'n dat," Claude gallantly assured them, as he
departed.
"I'll be twenty-four on my next birthday," Julia said thoughtfully, a
few moments later.
"Well, at that, you may live three or four years more!" Jim consoled
her. "Do you know what time it is, Loveliness? It's twenty minutes past
six. We've been married exactly two hours and twenty minutes. How do you
like it?"
"I love it!" said Julia boldly. "Do I have to change my dress for
dinner?"
"You do not."
"But I ought to fix my hair, it's all mashed!" Julia did wonders to it
with one of the ivory-backed brushes that had come with the new
travelling case, fluffing the thick braids and tucking the loose golden
strands about her temples trimly into place. Then she rubbed her face
with a towel, and jumped up to straighten her belt, and run an
investigating finger about the embroidered "turn-down" collar that
finished her blue silk blouse. Finally she handed Jim her new
whisk-broom with a capable air, and presented straight little shoulders
to be brushed.
Jim turned her round and round, whisking and straightening, and
occasionally kissing the tip of a pink ear, or the straight white line
where her hair parted.
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