isted on donning it at
once, and Miss Blake tried not to let her discover how ashamed she was
to be seen in the street with such a monstrous piece of millinery.
Underneath her tower of gorgeousness Nan strutted like a turkey-cock.

"I told Delia before we came away that we might not be home before
dusk, so suppose we take luncheon down-town, and then, if you like, we
will go to see Callmann. I haven't been to a sleight-of-hand
performance since I was a little girl, and I always had a liking for
that sort of thing."

"Oh, do! Let's! Can we?" cried Nan, in a burst of grateful excitement.

It was nippingly cold outside, and the warm restaurant proved a
delightful contrast. It was jolly to sit in the midst of all this
pleasant bustle and be served with delicate, unfamiliar dishes by
waiters who stood behind the chair and deferentially called one "Miss."

Miss Blake left Nan to order whatever she pleased, and they dawdled
over their meal luxuriously, the color in the girl's cheeks deepening
with the warmth and excitement until it almost matched the velvet in
her imposing hat. Every now and then she glanced furtively at her
reflection in the mirror, and the vision of that bird-of-paradise
hovering over those huge butterfly bows thrilled her with a great sense
of importance and self-satisfaction. More than once she saw that her
hat was being noticed and commented on by the other guests, and she
tried her best to seem not aware--to look modestly unconscious. But
Miss Blake, when she caught some eye fixed quizzically upon their
table, blushed to the roots of her hair, and felt as though it would be
impossible to bear the ordeal for a moment longer. Still, she did not
hurry Nan, and no one knew, the girl least of all, what agonies of
mortification she was enduring.

A deep-toned clock struck one full peal.

"That's half-past one," said Miss Blake, looking up and comparing her
watch.

"When does the entertainment begin?" asked Nan.

"At two, I think, or quarter after. If we ride up we have still a few
minutes to spare, but if we walk it would be wise to start at once."

"O let's walk," begged Nan. "It's such fun; there's so much going on.
And now my foot is well, I just want to trot all the time."

Though Miss Blake was a good walker and took a great deal of exercise,
she always preferred to ride when she was with Nan, for the girl forged
ahead at such a rate and darted in among the maze of trucks and cars
an