ally I don't see the use in being worth a million in her
own right, if she has no better taste than _that_ to display. Her
camels'-hair shawl is positively the ugliest thing I ever saw, and
she had it folded horribly. She is round-shouldered, anyhow--ought
never to wear a shawl."

"I think her shawl was better than her hat," chimed in Miss Lily.
"The _idea_ of that hat costing fifty dollars! It isn't as becoming
as her old one; and, to make it look worse than it would have done,
she had her hair arranged in that frightful new twist!"

"Why, Lily Harrison! I heard you tell her you thought her hat was
lovely!" This from Lily's youngest sister.

"Oh, yes, of course," said Miss Lily. "One must say something to
people. It wouldn't do to tell her she looked horrid." And the
mother _laughed_.

"It is a good thing for Mrs. Marsh that she holds her million in her
own right," observed cousin Jim. "That husband of hers is getting a
little too fast for comfort."

"Is that so?" Mr. Harrison asked, looking up from his turkey bone.

"Yes, sir; his loss at cards was tremendously heavy last week; would
have broken a less solid man. He had been drinking when he played
last, and made horridly flat moves."

"Disgraceful!" murmured Mr. Harrison; and then he took another sip of
his home-made wine.

There were homes representing this same church that were not so
stylish, or fashionable, or wealthy. Mrs. Brower and her daughter
Jenny had to lay aside their best dresses, and all the array of
Sunday toilet, which represented their very best, and repair to the
kitchen to cook their own Sunday dinners. "Was it a thoughtful
dwelling upon such verses of Scripture as had been presented that
morning which made the Sunday dinner the most elaborate, the most
carefully prepared, and more general in its variety, than any other
dinner in the week? Their breakfast hour was late, and, by putting
the dinner hour at half-past three, it gave them time to be
elaborate, according to their definition of that word. Not being
cumbered with hired help, mother and daughter could have
confidential Sabbath conversations with each other as they worked.
So while Mrs. Brower carefully washed and stuffed the two plump
chickens, Jennie prepared squash, and turnip, and potatoes for
cooking, planning meanwhile for the hot apple sauce, and a side dish
or two for dessert, and the two talked.

"Well, did you get an invitation?" the mother asked, and the tone of
suppr