"Red!" cried Zoie, "it's magenta." And again her thread broke. "Oh,

darn!" she exclaimed in annoyance, and once more rethreaded her needle.

"I couldn't look at it," she continued with a disgusted little pucker of

her face. "I wish they had let us take it this afternoon so I could have

got used to it before Alfred gets here."

"Now don't be silly," scolded Aggie. "You know very well that the

Superintendent can't let it leave the home until its mother signs the

papers. It will be here the first thing in the morning. You'll have all

day to get used to it before Alfred gets here."

"ALL DAY," echoed Zoie, and the corners of her mouth began to droop.

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"Won't Alfred be here before TO-MORROW NIGHT?"

Aggie was becoming exasperated by Zoie's endless questions. "I told

you," she explained wearily, "that the wire won't be delivered until

to-morrow morning, it will take Alfred eight hours to get here, and

there may not be a train just that minute."

"Eight long hours," sighed Zoie dismally. And Aggie looked at her

reproachfully, forgetting that it is always the last hour that

is hardest to bear. Zoie resumed her sewing resignedly. Aggie was

meditating whether she should read her young friend a lecture on the

value of patience, when the telephone began to ring violently.

Zoie looked up from her sewing with a frown. "You answer it, will you,

Aggie?" she said. "I can't let go this thread."

"Hello," called Aggie sweetly over the 'phone; then she added in

surprise, "Is this you, Jimmy dear?" Apparently it was; and as Zoie

watched Aggie's face, with its increasing distress she surmised that

Jimmy's message was anything but "dear."

"Good heavens!" cried Aggie over the telephone, "that's awful!"

"Isn't Alfred coming?" was the first question that burst from Zoie's

lips.

Aggie motioned to Zoie to be quiet. "TO-NIGHT!" she exclaimed.

"To-night!" echoed Zoie joyfully; and without waiting for more details

and with no thought beyond the moment, she flew to her dressing table

and began arranging her hair, powdering her face, perfuming her lips,

and making herself particularly alluring for the prodigal husband's

return.

Now the far-sighted Aggie was experiencing less pleasant sensations at

the phone. "A special?" she was saying to Jimmy. "When did Alfred GET

the message?" There was a slight pause. Then she asked irritably, "Well,

didn't you mark it 'NIGHT message'?" From the expression on Aggie's face

it was evident that he had not done so. "But, Jimmy," protested Aggie,

"this is dreadful! We haven't any baby!" Then calling to him to wait a

minute, and leaving the receiver dangling, she crossed the room to

Zoie, who was now thoroughly engrossed in the making of a fresh toilet.

"Zoie!" she exclaimed excitedly, "Jimmy made a mistake."




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