ner already," they all cried, speaking at once.

Page explained the situation, but Mrs. Cressler would not be denied.

"The carriage is right here," she said. "I don't have to call for
Charlie. He's got a man from Cincinnati in tow, and they are going to
dine at the Calumet Club."

It ended by the two sisters and Mrs. Wessels getting into Mrs.
Cressler's carriage. Landry excused himself. He lived on the South
Side, on Michigan Avenue, and declaring that he knew they had had
enough of him for one day, took himself off.

But whatever Mrs. Cressler had to tell Laura, she evidently was
determined to save for her ears only. Arrived at the Dearborns' home,
she sent her footman in to tell the "girl" that the family would not be
home that night. The Cresslers lived hard by on the same street, and
within ten minutes' walk of the Dearborns. The two sisters and their
aunt would be back immediately after breakfast.

When they had got home with Mrs. Cressler, this latter suggested hot
tea and sandwiches in the library, for the ride had been cold. But the
others, worn out, declared for bed as soon as Mrs. Cressler herself had
dined.

"Oh, bless you, Carrie," said Aunt Wess'; "I couldn't think of tea. My
back is just about broken, and I'm going straight to my bed."

Mrs. Cressler showed them to their rooms. Page and Mrs. Wessels elected
to sleep together, and once the door had closed upon them the little
girl unburdened herself.

"I suppose Laura thinks it's all right, running off like this for the
whole blessed night, and no one to look after the house but those two
servants that nobody knows anything about. As though there weren't
heaven knows what all to tend to there in the morning. I just don't
see," she exclaimed decisively, "how we're going to get settled at all.
That Landry Court! My goodness, he's more hindrance than help. Did you
ever see! He just dashes in as though he were doing it all, and messes
everything up, and loses things, and gets things into the wrong place,
and forgets this and that, and then he and Laura sit down and spoon. I
never saw anything like it. First it's Corthell and then Landry, and
next it will be somebody else. Laura regularly mortifies me; a great,
grown-up girl like that, flirting, and letting every man she meets
think that he's just the one particular one of the whole earth. It's
not good form. And Landry--as if he didn't know we've got more to do
now than just to dawdle and dawdle. I co