"
"All right for you, girlie!" bellowed the great voice over the
line. "Pick up any little personal bits you can put in a
suitcase, and by twelve o'clock tomorrow I'll whisk you right out
of that damn mess."
Eileen walked from the telephone booth with her head high,
triumph written all over her face and figure. They were going to
humiliate her. She would show them!
She went home immediately. Entering her room, she closed the
door and stood looking at her possessions. How could she get her
trunk from the garret? How could she get it to the station?
Would it be possible for Uncle James to take it in his car? As
she pondered these things Eileen had a dim memory of a day in her
childhood when her mother had gone on business to San Francisco
and had taken her along. She remembered a huge house, all
turrets and towers and gables, all turns and twists and angles,
closed to the light of day and glowing inside with shining
artificial lights. She remembered stumbling over deep rugs. One
vivid impression was of walls covered with huge canvases, some of
them having frames more than a foot wide. She remembered knights
in armor, and big fireplaces, and huge urns and vases. It seemed
to her like the most wonderful bazaar she ever had been in. She
remembered, too, that she had been glad when her mother had taken
her out into the sunshine again and from the presence of two
ponderous people who had objected strongly to everything her
mother had discussed with them.
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