y apron was donned with an air to effect; while, wonder of
wonders! Nan had grown tidy, possessing hair as daintily coiled and
hands as carefully kept as Lilias's own. In the old days it had been
hazarded as an occasional conjecture that Nan was pretty; but there
could be no doubt on that question now, for the plump face had moulded
into shape, the complexion toned down to a soft pink and white, and the
dark eyes shone with happiness. Happiness, indeed, seemed to radiate
from Nan to-day, as she raced up and down the house, as hard-worked as
any of her sisters, yet in some indefinable way distinguished from the
rest, for she was given the precedence in all that went on, while every
time that she and her mother came together, they embraced with fresh
unction. For the rest, Elsie had reached her ambition, and the age when
she might dress her hair as she chose, and by means of parting it in the
middle and plastering it over her ears had given herself an
appropriately funereal aspect. Even Agatha boasted a coil at the back
of her head, while Christabel and Kitty wore skirts which reached to
their ankles.

Advancing years had, however, by no means diminished the girls' powers
of conversation; and as they banked up plants in corners of the
staircase, and rearranged furniture in the sitting-rooms, the babel of
voices was as deafening, and seemingly as inexhaustible, as of yore.

"Children, children, be quiet! Stop talking, for mercy's sake!" pleaded
Mrs Rendell piteously. "I try to ask a question, and cannot make
myself heard. You will make Nan's head ache if you go on like this. Go
up to your room to write your letters, Nan dear. Don't attempt to do it
here, but take the chance of half an hour's quiet when you can get it."

Nan rose obediently, and carried her writing materials upstairs; but it
was some time before she sat down at her desk, for the dressing-room
door stood open, and therein lay something which exercised an
irresistible attraction, something which lay stretched on a sofa,
swathed in careful wrappings.

Nan drew back the sheet with reverent fingers, and there it lay in all
its beauty--a gleaming satin dress, the train folded skilfully in and
out, bunches of orange-blossom catching up the lace, which was festooned
with as much lavishness as if it had been modest Nottingham, instead of
precious Brussels, of that rich mellow tint which comes from age alone.
A bride's dress, and a bride's dress fit for