health, the conversation, and the personal home-life of this august parliament in just the same way that people spoke of their friends, acquaintances and familiars the whole world over, gave the youth a sense of living in a dream, of hearing incredible things—things incredible because of their very casual familiarity—of being the witness of an incredible event.
In this way, the meal drew to its close: Mrs. Pierce and her step-mother managed to avoid further friction, although once it threatened, when Mrs. Pierce, observing the retreating figure of one of the maid-servants—a robust and plain-featured countrywoman of middle age—noticed from the cropped and unnaturally white texture of her neck and skull that her hair had been cut, “bobbed” in the fashion that was to grow so popular and that was just then coming into style, and turned and questioned her step-mother about it:
“What has happened to that woman’s hair, Mother?” she said. “What did she do to it?”
“Why,” cried Mrs. Joel eagerly, beginning to beam and dimple around at her guests with an air of delighted satisfaction—“I had it cut off.”
“You had it cut off?” cried Mrs. Pierce in an astounded tone.
“Why, yes, my dear,” chirped Mrs. Joel eagerly, “I sent all the girls into the village one morning last week and had the barber cut their hair.”
“What!” Mrs. Pierce boomed out in an astounded tone, and then sank back against her chair, and for a moment returned her son’s stare incredulously, “you mean you herded all these girls together and whacked their hair off at one stroke?”
“Why, of course, my dear,” said Mrs. Joel eagerly, in a rather excited and disturbed tone, “—or rather, I told them that they’d have to do it—that that was what I wanted.”
“What you wanted?” Mrs. Pierce boomed out in the same astounded and incredulous tone.
“Why, yes”—Mrs. Joel rushed on eagerly, excitedly, taking the whole table in now with a look of beaming explanation. “—You see, I had the whole house done over this spring—redecorated—I told the decorator the effect I wanted,” she said gushingly—“I told him everything must be done for—for—lightness!” she said triumphantly, “—coolness!… to do everything in light cool colours… get that effect…. So last week,” she went on happily, “when we had that spell of frightful hot weather, I noticed suddenly how—how hot—and disagreeable all the girls looked with their long hair—how—how out of place,” she said triumphantly, “they
