Eleanor said nothing further on the subject, but the corners of her mouth
rearranged themselves.
"There's our man!" exclaimed Suzanne suddenly; "hurry!"
Mr. Bertram Kneyght greeted his cousin and her friend with genuine
heartiness, and readily accepted their invitation to explore the crowded
mart that stood temptingly at their elbow. The plate-glass doors swung
open and the trio plunged bravely into the jostling throng of buyers and
loiterers.
"Is it always as full as this?" asked Bertram of Eleanor.
"More or less, and autumn sales are on just now," she replied.
Suzanne, in her anxiety to pilot her cousin to the desired haven of the
fur department, was usually a few paces ahead of the others, coming back
to them now and then if they lingered for a moment at some attractive
counter, with the nervous solicitude of a parent rook encouraging its
young ones on their first flying expedition.
"It's Suzanne's birthday on Wednesday next," confided Eleanor to Bertram
Kneyght at a moment when Suzanne had left them unusually far behind; "my
birthday comes the day before, so we are both on the look-out for
something to give each other."
"Ah," said Bertram. "Now, perhaps you can advise me on that very point.
I want to give Suzanne something, and I haven't the least idea what she
wants."
"She's rather a problem," said Eleanor. "She seems to have everything
one can think of, lucky girl. A fan is always useful; she'll be going to
a lot of dances at Davos this winter.
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