I might as well go to bed and to sleep as sit here any longer." When Margaret had returned from the guest room, her husband looked at her almost in a bewildered fashion.

Margaret sank wearily into a chair.

"Isn't she impossible ?" she whispered.
"Did she think there was a dinner party ?" Wilbur inquired perplexedly.
"I don't know.

It was ghastly.

I did not for a moment suppose she would dress for a party, unless I told her, and it is Emma's night off and I could not ask people with only Clara to cook and wait." Wilbur patted his wife's shoulder comfortingly.