Susanna slipped her bare arms into the stiff sleeves of a Mandarin coat and crossed the hall to the instrument.

“Hello, Susanna!” said the cheerful voice of young Mrs. Harrington, a neighbor and friend, at the other end of the telephone.  “I just rang up to know if I could come over early and help you out with anything and whether—­”

“Help me out with anything?” Mrs. Fairfax’s voice ranged through delicate shades of surprise to dawning consternation.  “Help me out with what?”

“Why, you told me yourself that this was the day of the bridge-club lunch at your house!” Mrs. Harrington said, almost indignantly.  But immediately she became mirthful.  “Oh, Susanna, Susanna!  You haven’t forgotten—­oh, you have!  Oh, you poor girl, what will you do!  Listen, I could bring a—­”

“Oh, my goodness, Ethel—­and I’ve got to go to town!” Susanna’s tone was hushed with a sort of horror.  “And those seven women will be here at half-past twelve!  And not one thing in the house—­”

“Oh, you could get Ludovici as far as the lunch goes, Sue.  But the girls will think it’s odd, perhaps.  Couldn’t you wait and take the one o’clock?”

“Yes, I’ll get Ludovici,” Susanna decided hastily.  “No, I couldn’t do that.  But I’ll tell you what I could do.  If you’ll be an angel, Ethel, and do the honors until I get here, I could lunch early, get through my business in town, and get the one-fifty train for home—­”

“Well, that’ll be all right.  I’ll explain,” said the amiable Mrs. Harrington.

A few minutes later Mrs. Fairfax left the telephone and went down to the kitchen to explain to Emma and Veronica, the maids, that there would be a luncheon for eight ladies served by a caterer, in her home, that day, and that they must simply assist him.  She herself must be in town unfortunately, but Mrs. Harrington had very kindly offered to come over and be hostess and play the eighth hand of bridge afterward.  Emma and Veronica, perhaps more hardened to these emergencies than are ordinary maids, rose to the occasion, and Susanna hurried off to her train satisfied that as far as the actual luncheon was concerned, all would go well.  But what the seven women would think was another story!

“I don’t suppose Mrs. Thayer wants to do so very much shopping,” said Susanna to herself, hurrying along.  “If I meet her at eleven and we lunch at one, say, I don’t see why I shouldn’t get the one-fifty train home.  I’d get here before the girls had fairly started playing bridge, and explain—­somehow one can always explain things so much better in person—­”

“Or suppose we lunched at half-past twelve,” her uneasy thoughts ran on.  “That gives us an hour and a half to shop—­that ought to be plenty.  But we mustn’t lose a minute getting started!  Mrs. Thayer will come up in her motor—­that will save us time.  We can start right off the instant I get to Jim’s office.”