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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Bab: a Sub-Deb"

You've got him tide, maybe," I remarked, "but not thrown
as yet."
(A remark I had learned from one of the girls, Trudie Mills, who comes
from Montana.)
I was therfore compeled to dispose of my silver napkin ring from school.
Jane was bought up, she said, and I sold it to the cook for fifty cents
and half a minse pie although baked with our own materials.
All my Fate, therfore, hung on a paltrey fifty cents.
I was torn with anxiety. Was it enough? Could I, for fifty cents, steel
away from the sordid cares of life, and lose myself in obliviousness,
gazing only it his dear Face, listening to his dear and softly modulited
Voice, and wondering if, as his eyes swept the audiance, they might
perchance light on me and brighten with a momentary gleam in their
unfathomable Depths? Only this and nothing more, was my expectation.
How diferent was the reality!
Having ascertained that there was a matinee, I departed at an early hour
after luncheon, wearing my blue velvet with my fox furs. White gloves
and white topped shoes completed my outfit, and, my own CHAPEAU showing
the effect of a rainstorm on the way home from church while away at
school, I took a chance on one of Sis's, a perfectly madening one of
rose-colored velvet. As the pink made me look pale, I added a touch of
rouge.
I looked fully out, and indeed almost Second Season. I have a way of
assuming a serious and Mature manner, so that I am frequently taken
for older than I realy am. Then, taking a few roses left from the
decorations, and thrusting them carelessly into the belt of my coat,
I went out the back door, as Sis was getting ready for some girls to
Bridge, in the front of the house.


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