As she entered the front door her mother, in a wrapper and curl papers, appeared at the head of the stairs.

"Why!" cried she.

"Where's the silk?
It's for your dress tonight, you know." "It'll be along," was Ruth's answer, her tone dreary, her lip quivering.

"I met Sam Wright." "Oh!" exclaimed her mother.

"He's back, is he ?" Ruth did not reply.