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When Georgia came into the room she found Amy on the oouch In an attitude of complete dejection.
"Good gracious! What's the matter?" asked the caller. "I thought you were receiving today. Why didn't the maid tell me you were ill?"
"I'm not ill, Georgia, and I heartily wish I wasn't In," came Amy's despondent voice from the depths of the sofa pillows.
"Well, If you don't wish to see me, of course—"
"Oh, I'm always glad to see you." Amy raised herself on her elbow and then sank back onto the couch with an exaggerated air of weakness. "I'm only wilted, that's all. I'm so completely covered with chagrin that I can't rise. With that she rose and said dramatically: "If some kind fate had taken me out today I would not have been home to make a complete idiot of myself."
"I suppose you know what you are talking about," remarked Georgia, "but you leave me in the dark."
"Walt till you hear the story and then you will cease to wonder at my present abject condition.
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