"You get into your OWN things," commanded Aggie.

"Where's my dressing gown?" asked Zoie, her elation revived by the thought of her fine raiment, and with that she flew to the foot of the bed and s.n.a.t.c.hed up two of the prettiest negligees ever imported from Paris. "Which do you like better?" she asked, as she held them both aloft, "the pink or the blue?"

"It doesn't matter," answered Aggie wearily. "Get into SOMETHING, that's all."

"Then unhook me," commanded Zoie gaily, as she turned her back to Aggie, and continued to admire the two "creations" on her arm. So pleased was she with the picture of herself in either of the garments that she began humming a gay waltz and swaying to the rhythm.

"Stand still," commanded Aggie, but her warning was unnecessary, for at that moment Zoie was transfixed by a horrible fear.

"Suppose," she said in alarm, "that Jimmy can't GET the baby?"

"He's GOT to get it," answered Aggie emphatically, and she undid the last stubborn hook of Zoie's gown and put the girl from her. "There, now, you're all unfastened," she said, "hurry and get dressed."

"You mean undressed," laughed Zoie, as she let her pretty evening gown fall lightly from her shoulders and drew on her pink negligee. "Oh, Aggie!" she exclaimed, as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, "isn't it a love? And you know," she added. "Alfred just adores pink."

"Silly!" answered Aggie, but in spite of herself, she was quite thrilled by the picture of the exquisite young creature before her. Zoie had certainly never looked more irresistible. "Can't you get some of that colour out of your cheeks," asked Aggie in despair. "You look like a washerwoman."

"I'll put on some cold cream and powder," answered Zoie. She flew to her dressing table; and in a moment there was a white cloud in her immediate vicinity. She turned to Aggie to inquire the result. Again the 'phone rang. "Who's that?" she exclaimed in alarm.

"I'll see," answered Aggie.

"It couldn't be Alfred, could it?" asked Zoie with mingled hope and dread.

"Of course not," answered Aggie, as she removed the receiver from the hook. "Alfred wouldn't 'phone, he would come right up."

CHAPTER XV

Discovering that it was merely Jimmy "on the wire," Zoie's uneasiness abated, but Aggie's anxiety was visibly increasing.

"Where ARE you?" she asked of her spouse. "The Children's Home!" she repeated, then followed further explanations from Jimmy which were apparently not satisfactory. "Oh, Jimmy!" cried his disturbed wife, "it can't be! That's horrible!"

"What is it?" shrieked Zoie, trying to get her small ear close enough to the receiver to catch a bit of the obviously terrifying message.

"Wait a minute," called Aggie into the 'phone. Then she turned to Zoie with a look of despair. "The mother's changed her mind," she explained; "she won't give up the baby."

"Good Lord!" cried Zoie, and she sank into the nearest chair. For an instant the two women looked at each other with blank faces. "What can we DO," asked Zoie.

Aggie did not answer immediately. This was indeed a serious predicament; but presently Zoie saw her friend's mouth becoming very resolute, and she surmised that Aggie had solved the problem. "We'll have to get ANOTHER baby, that's all," decided Aggie. "There must be OTHER babies."

"Where?" asked Zoie.

"There, in the Children's Home," answered Aggie with great confidence, and she returned to the 'phone.

Zoie crossed to the bed and knelt at its foot in search of her little pink slippers.

"Oh, Aggie," she sighed, "the others were all so red!"

But Aggie did not heed her protest. "Listen, Jimmy," she called in the 'phone, "can't you get another baby?" There was a pause, then Aggie commanded hotly, "Well, GET in the business!" Another pause and then Aggie continued very firmly, "Tell the Superintendent that we JUST MUST have one."

Zoie stopped in the act of putting on her second slipper and called a reminder to Aggie. "Tell him to get a HE one," she said, "Alfred wants a boy."

"Take what you can get!" answered Aggie impatiently, and again she gave her attention to the 'phone. "What!" she cried, with growing despair, and Zoie waited to hear what had gone wrong now. "Nothing under three months," explained Aggie.

"Won't that do?" asked Zoie innocently.

"Do!" echoed Aggie in disgust. "A three-months' old baby is as big as a whale."

"Well, can't we say it GREW UP?" asked Zoie, priding herself on her power of ready resource.

"Overnight, like a mushroom?" sneered Aggie.

Almost vanquished by her friend's new air of cold superiority, Zoie was now on the verge of tears. "Somebody must have a new baby," she faltered. "Somebody ALWAYS has a new baby."

"For their own personal USE, yes," admitted Aggie, "but who has a new baby for US?"

"How do I know?" asked Zoie helplessly. "You're the one who ought to know. You got me into this, and you've GOT to get me out of it. Can you imagine," she asked, growing more and more unhappy, "what would happen to me if Alfred were to come home now and not find a baby? He wouldn't forgive a LITTLE lie, what would he do with a WHOPPER like this?" Then with sudden decision, she rushed toward the 'phone. "Let me talk to Jimmy," she said, and the next moment she was chattering so rapidly and incoherently over the 'phone that Aggie despaired of hearing one word that she said, and retired to the next room to think out a new plan of action.

"Say, Jimmy," stammered Zoie into the 'phone, "you've GOT to get me a baby. If you don't, I'll kill myself! I will, Jimmy, I will. You got me into this, Jimmy," she reminded him. "You've GOT to get me out of it."

And then followed pleadings and coaxings and cajolings, and at length, a pause, during which Jimmy was apparently able to get in a word or so.

His answer was not satisfactory to Zoie. "What!" she shrieked, tiptoeing to get her lips closer to the receiver; then she added with conviction, "the mother has no business to change her mind."

Apparently Jimmy maintained that the mother had changed it none the less.

"Well, take it away from her," commanded Zoie. "Get it quick, while she isn't looking." Then casting a furtive glance over her shoulder to make sure that Aggie was still out of the room, she indulged in a few dark threats to Jimmy, also some vehement reminders of how he had DRAGGED her into that horrid old restaurant and been the immediate cause of all the misfortunes that had ever befallen her.

Could Jimmy have been sure that Aggie was out of ear-shot of Zoie's conversation, the argument would doubtless have kept up indefinitely--as it was--the result was a quick acquiescence on his part and by the time that Aggie returned to the room, Zoie was wreathed in smiles.

"It's all right," she said sweetly. "Jimmy's going to get it."

Aggie looked at her sceptically. "Goodness knows I hope so," she said, then added in despair, "Look at your cheeks. They're flaming."

Once more the powder puff was called into requisition, and Zoie turned a temporarily blanched face to Aggie. "Is that better?" she asked.

"Very much," answered Aggie, "but how about your hair?"

"What's the matter with it?" asked Zoie. Her reflection betrayed a coiffure that might have turned Marie Antoinette green with envy.

"Would anybody think you'd been in bed for days?" asked Aggie.

"Alfred likes it that way," was Zoie's defence.

"Turn around," said Aggie, without deigning to argue the matter further.

And she began to remove handfuls of hairpins from the yellow knotted curls.

"What are you doing?" exclaimed Zoie, as she sprayed her white neck and arms with her favourite perfume.