“Are you going to get such and such a hat?” or, “Have you seen the new gloves with the oval pearl buttons?” were but sample phrases out of a large selection.

“The next time you get a pair of shoes, dearie,” said Mrs. Vance, “get button, with thick soles and patent-leather tips.  They’re all the rage this fall.”

“I will,” said Carrie.

“Oh, dear, have you seen the new shirtwaists at Altman’s?  They have some of the loveliest patterns.  I saw one there that I know would look stunning on you.  I said so when I saw it.”

Carrie listened to these things with considerable interest, for they were suggested with more of friendliness than is usually common between pretty women.  Mrs. Vance liked Carrie’s stable good-nature so well that she really took pleasure in suggesting to her the latest things.

“Why don’t you get yourself one of those nice serge skirts they’re selling at Lord & Taylor’s?” she said one day.  “They’re the circular style, and they’re going to be worn from now on.  A dark blue one would look so nice on you.”

Carrie listened with eager ears.  These things never came up between her and Hurstwood.  Nevertheless, she began to suggest one thing and another, which Hurstwood agreed to without any expression of opinion.  He noticed the new tendency on Carrie’s part, and finally, hearing much of Mrs. Vance and her delightful ways, suspected whence the change came.  He was not inclined to offer the slightest objection so soon, but he felt that Carrie’s wants were expanding.  This did not appeal to him exactly, but he cared for her in his own way, and so the thing stood.  Still, there was something in the details of the transactions which caused Carrie to feel that her requests were not a delight to him.  He did not enthuse over the purchases.  This led her to believe that neglect was creeping in, and so another small wedge was entered.

Nevertheless, one of the results of Mrs. Vance’s suggestions was the fact that on this occasion Carrie was dressed somewhat to her own satisfaction.  She had on her best, but there was comfort in the thought that if she must confine herself to a best, it was neat and fitting.  She looked the well-groomed woman of twenty-one, and Mrs. Vance praised her, which brought color to her plump cheeks and a noticeable brightness into her large eyes.  It was threatening rain, and Mr. Vance, at his wife’s request, had called a coach.  “Your husband isn’t coming?” suggested Mr. Vance, as he met Carrie in his little parlor.

“No; he said he wouldn’t be home for dinner.”

“Better leave a little note for him, telling him where we are.  He might turn up.”

“I will,” said Carrie, who had not thought of it before.

“Tell him we’ll be at Sherry’s until eight o’clock.  He knows, though I guess.”

Carrie crossed the hall with rustling skirts, and scrawled the note, gloves on.  When she returned a newcomer was in the Vance flat.