stood her ground prettily then accepted introductions. She gave Paulette a preoccupied "How dya' do," then pursued me with ques- tions about Paul. I answered with suspicious evasiveness, I guess. stalling for time.

As I appeared to get more mysterious, Meg began eyeing Paulette more closely. But with that cold, appraising disdain one woman will appraise another with--recognizing her beauty, the threat of competi- tion-visibly trying to convince herself "She's NOT prettier than I am." "Can we talk privately?" she asked finally.

Once behind closed doors up in my room, Meg burst out, "Does that expensive looking Hippie chick have anything to do with my brother's disappearance!? I'll scratch her eyes out if she's seduced him back into that routine."

That gave me the profound giggles.

"Well, Paulette's related to his disappearance. ... or new appearance. But would you consider that well-groomed, expensively-dressed girl a Hippie?"

“No, naturally—perhaps a Hippie out of Vogue. But what's she got to do with Paul's . . . uh . . . new appearance? It's asking too much that he should dress square again."

"Well he is an absolute fashion plate. You ought to see him in a formal!"

"Formal—you mean white tie? Ridiculous. It'd be more likely if he wore hair-ribbons!," she laughed sarcastically.

"Formal-though not exactly

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white tie. And he is cute in hair-

bows. But maybe I could lead you around to a clue if I asked you what you thought of Paulette out there."

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about

Meg looked closely at me, as though I were a mad person. that girl out there? Well, if I felt friendly with her I'd say she was chic, rather lovely, and an absolute fly-trap for boys. If she were my sister our house would be besieged by fellows."

"Face it, Meg honey--you are Paulette's sister." I told her.

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