d having an apple-gathering and storing for
its object. It was derived from the fact that Aubrey had been invited.
It occurred to her that something might transpire in Lettice's free and
innocent narrative of her enjoyment, which would be of service in the
difficult business of dealing with Aubrey at this juncture.

Lettice, as beseemed a maiden of her years, was silent, though her eyes
said, "Please!" in very distinct language.

"I thank you, Mrs Rookwood; Lettice may go."

Lettice's eyes lighted up.

"Then, Mrs Lettice, will you step in about nine o'clock? My maids'll
be fain to see you. And if any of you gentlewomen should have a liking
to look in--"

"Nay, the girls should count us spoil-sports," said Edith, laughingly.

"Now come, Mrs Edith! 'tis not so long since you were a young maid."

"Twelve good years, Mrs Rookwood: as long, pretty nigh, as Hester
Abbott has been in the world."

"Eh, but years don't go for much, not with some folks."

"Not with them that keep the dew of their youth," said Lady Louvaine
with a smile. "But to do that, friend, a woman should dwell very near
to Him who only hath immortality."

It was something so unusual for one of this sober household to go out to
a party, that a flutter arose, when Mrs Rookwood had departed,
concerning Lettice's costume.

"She had best go in a washing gown," was the decision of her practical
Aunt Temperance. "If she's to be any good with the apples, she must not
wear her Sunday best."

Lettice's Sunday best was not of an extravagant character, being a dark
green perpetuana gown, trimmed with silver lace, a mantle of
plum-coloured cloth, and a plum-coloured hood lined with dark green.

"But a washing gown, Temperance! It should look so mean," objected Mrs
Louvaine.

"Her best gown'll look meaner, if all the lace be hung with cobwebs, and
all the frilling lined with apple-parings," said Temperance.

"She'll take better care of it than so, I hope," said Edith. "And a
lawn gown should be cold for this season."

"Well, let the child wear her brown kersey. That'll not spoil so much
as some."

In her heart Lettice hoped she would not have to wear the brown kersey.
Brown was such an ugly colour! and the kersey, already worn two seasons,
was getting shabby--far too shabby to wear at a party. She would have
liked to put on her best. But no girl of twenty, unmarried, at that
date decided such matters for herself.

"Oh, never that ugly thin