"Why, Alice, didn't you go out to lunch today?"

"Why, Alice, didn't you go out to lunch today?"

"No, I didn't." The stenographer did not look up from the crocheting, "and what's more, there'll be no rest for me noons, nights or Sundays, Caroline, until these table mats are done."

"I wasn't aware that you were in any immediate need of table mats," pursued the bookkeeper. "Isn't this rather sudden?"

"They aren't for me, worse luck. When I need household goods I'll let you all know, never fear. These mats are for another and they are long overdue." The stenographer laughed bitterly. "Behold in me a victim of the habit of promising in haste to repent when repentence is entirely useless.

"What?" "I mean that I'm one of those unfortunate impulsive persons who are always gratuitously and recklessly offering to do things for people. Observe these mats. There was really no reason why I should undertake the manufacture of eighteen doilies, six of each of the three sizes, you know, for a person like Mrs. Corwine, but when she told me that Mr. Corwine had bought her a beautiful mahogany dining table I at once said, without considering the matter at all, automatically, you know, that I would make her a set of mats for it. She took me up with a jump and hoped I'd do the pineapple pattern. It's the most difficult stitch I know. "Now she is probably wondering when I'm ever going to get them done. The truth is that I've only just been able to begin them, for I've been spending every spare minute for tiw last month on the border of Fre*h knots that in a moment of aberration I promised to embroider on Gertrude Lane's white marquisette dress. She bought it ready made and she thought it looked too plain, so, of course, I suggested the French dots and when she said that she didn't know how to make them I volunteered to do them for her.

"For four long weeks those knots have haunted me. Every evening that I've wished to read or play cards I've been obliged to stick to the dots, and the worst of it is that my offer to do them was made so casually that Gertrude has no realization of what a Herculean task they were. I wouldn't feel so sorry for myself as I do if I thought I were receiving proper credit for my labors.

"It's the same way with these doilies. Mrs. Corwine thinks that "because I said in a light and airy way that I'd make them they're a mere amusement or pastime for me. Did you ever know such a goose as I am—to get myself into doing things and to hate myself for it? I'm one of those who jump in where angels fear to tread."