Of the three who piled into the excursion train for the London sales, I was , the only one who had planned it in advance, Joan and Mary having invited themselves at the last minute, so, as we regained our breath after the rush with which mothers of families escape for the day, I explained ‘my plans. 

"I want to get curtain materials and a bath-mat, shoes for myself at a special shop in Oxford Street, and a cheap carpet for the nursery." in the evening, I meant to see "The Rose without a Thorn."

 "Do what you like," said Mary, "we haven't any shopping to do -- we only wanted the outing. But isn't that play rather sad?" 

"I like something I can laugh at," said Joan, wistfully, beginning to read the comedies from the theatre list.

As we reached King's Cross, Mary announced;"We eat first", and led us into a restaurant, where we lunched at leisure. It was Joan who drew our attention to the clock, with murmurs of 'High St., Kensington;' and, though no definite shopping centre seemed to have been mentioned in our discussions, Mary and I found ourselves on a bus, booked for the triple drapers of Kensington. Some twenty minutes later, we were forcing our way between piles of linen and I paused to buy a gay bath-mat , Mary and Joan protested strongly against such extravagance.

 "You have a good mat already," said Joan, "even if it doesn't match the walls. 

"We never use one," said Mary, "we stand on cork." 

Feeling somewhat abashed, I paid the bill, while they moved on, but when I re-joined them, each had a parcel and a new light in her eye. They had caught sale fever -- from now on they led and I followed. 

Remnant counters lured them and though in the train Joan had mentioned possible silk remnants for babies’ frocks, she flung herself on gorgeous brocades and seatins. 

"For cushions," she explained."Find me some more like this," and a brilliant piece was thrust into my hand. I obeyed, and returning, found her started on a new quest, aided by Mary who seemed to have acquired a parcel or two herself. 

"We've found something for you," they said, "that would make adorable pyjamas." It would -- and I fell! 

From remnants we passed to Juvenile, where small boys' bargains were so tempting that we all bought freely, and thence Joan led us to the basement, where , to my amazement, she and Mary made intimate purchases for their husbands, all C.0.D

 "We'll get the money out of them somehow," they explained, casually. 

The atmosphere grew hot, and I hinted that it must be near tea~time, at which the assistant looked up from his bill. 

"Ten past six, madam. We close in twenty minutes." 

With a shriek, Mary rushed me back to the linen department, where, regardless of comments, she settled down to the serious amassing of towels and tablecloths, pillow-slips and tea-cloths. Joan, with a murmured explanation that her linen-cupboard needed stocking too, slipped to her side, and I caught phrases like “"Half-a dozen between us” and again the magic letters "C.0.D." They finished as the bell rang for closing, and announced: 

“Now we might have tea." 

Sleepily at midnight we entrained for home. 

"It's been a good day," said Mary, as she and Joan spread out their dozen parcels, then suddenly they looked at me, realisation dawning in their faces. Guiltily I remembered that I had bought neither curtains nor carpet nor shoes, that the play we had seen had been a comedy after all. I smiled back,reassuringly. 

"It's been great," I said --- but somehow I think I shall shop alone next time.