“To the Wilson roof garden!” he said.  “To Kit, who inspired; to the creators, who perspired; and to Takahiro—­may he not have expired.”

Every one was very gay; I think the knowledge that tomorrow Aunt Selina might be with them urged them to make the most of this last night of freedom.  I tried to be jolly, and succeeded in being feverish.  Mr. Harbison did not come up to enjoy what he had wrought.  Jim brought up his guitar and sang love songs in a beautiful tenor, looking at Bella all the time.  And Bella sat in a steamer chair, with a rug over her and a spangled veil on her head, looking at the boats on the river—­about as soft and as chastened as an an acetylene headlight.

And after Max had told the most improbable tale, which Leila advised him to sprinkle salt on, and Dallas had done a clog dance, Bella said it was time for her complexion sleep and went downstairs, and broke up the party.

“If she only give half as an much care to her immortal soul,” Anne said when she had gone, “as she does to her skin, she would let that nice Harbison boy alone.  She must have been brutal to him tonight, for he went to bed at nine o’clock.  At least, I suppose he went to bed, for he shut himself in the studio, and when I knocked he advised me not to come in.”

I had pleaded my headache as an excuse for avoiding Aunt Selina all day, and she had not sent for me.  Bella was really quite extraordinary.  She was never in the habit of putting herself out for any one, and she always declared that the very odor of a sick room drove her to Scotch and soda.  But here she was, rubbing Aunt Selina’s back with chloroform liniment—­and you know how that smells—­getting her up in a chair, dressed in one of Bella’s wadded silk robes, with pillows under her feet, and then doing her hair in elaborate puffs—­braiding her gray switch and bringing it, coronet-fashion, around the top of her head.  She even put rice powder on Aunt Selina’s nose, and dabbed violet water behind her ears, and said she couldn’t understand why she (Aunt Selina) had never married, but, of course, she probably would some day!

The result was, naturally, that the old lady wouldn’t let Bella out of her sight, except to go to the kitchen for something to eat for her.  That very day Bella got the doctor to order ale for Aunt Selina (oh, yes; the doctor could come in; Dal said “it was all a-coming in, and nothing going out”) and she had three pints of Bass, and learned to eat anchovies and caviare—­all in one day.

Bella’s conduct to Jim was disgraceful.  She snubbed him, ignored him, tramped on him, and Jim was growing positively flabby.  He spent most of his time writing letters to the board of health and playing solitaire.  He was a pathetic figure.

Well, we went to bed fairly early.  Bella had massaged Aunt Selina’s face and rubbed in cold cream, Anne and Dallas had compromised on which window should be open in their bedroom, and the men had matched to see who should look at the furnace.  I did not expect to sleep, but the cold night air had done its work, and I was asleep almost immediately.