“Oh, but look here, Mary,” said Héloise, “do you really have to go? I mean, really?”

“I should think so,” said Mary, and pursed her lips at her reflection. She considered her hair. “Yes, I really think I do.”

“But you know what he is,” protested her friend. “Just think what it would mean if you–“

“I know all that,” Mary said, tossing her head impatiently. “Oh! Look at that! How wonderfully marvelous! That was just what it needed.” She stood up and began gathering her ‘things’. “I won’t hear another word about it, and that’s final. My mind is made up, and that’s just all there is to it.”

“But, Mary!” Héloise withered under Mary’s fierce stare. “Well, you do what you like.”

“Thank you, I shall.”

“But don’t expect any sympathy from me when everything goes sour — and you know it will. It always does with him.”

“What a fussbudget you are! Everything will be fine, my dear, you’ll see. All of this worry and fretting will just blow away. Now be a good girl, and I’ll be back before you know it.” She kissed Héloise lightly on the cheek and was gone in a plume of powder.