see, regardless of price."

"You would never get near the counters, the shops are so packed,"
observed Edith, who was hovering over a table full of lovely articles on
the other side of the large room. "Just send what you have, Cynthia, and
let the rest go. You can't possibly finish them in time. You give so
many Christmas presents."

"Oh, it's all very well for you, with all those wedding-presents and the
Christmas things you'll have besides, to think other people won't want
them! You don't take half as much interest in Christmas as usual this
year, Edith, just because you are going to be married so soon. Now I
should never change about Christmas if I were to be married forty
times--which I hope I sha'n't be. In fact, I've about made up my mind
never to marry at all."

"Nonsense! I think I used to say that myself when I was as young as you
are."

"And you're just two years older, so according to that you were saying
so this time two years ago, which was not by any means the case, for you
were already engaged to Dennis then! In fact, I don't believe you ever
said it. Oh, another needle! I'm too excited to work, anyhow. What with
weddings and Christmas and the boys coming home, I am utterly incapable
of further exertion."

She tossed the unfinished photograph-frame across the bed and leaned
back in her chair. Then she began to gather up her work materials.
Finally she moved restlessly to the window.

"It is beginning to snow. I hope the boys won't be blocked up on the
way. Wouldn't it be dreadful?"

"I suppose you mean Neal. Of course Jack can get out from Cambridge. Ah,
here comes Dennis!" and Edith hastily left the room.

"Dennis, Dennis--always Dennis!" said Cynthia to herself. "I wonder if I
could ever become so silly? Certainly I never could about Dennis Morgan,
though he is a dear old fellow, and I'm very glad I'm going to have him
for a brother-in-law."

Cynthia stood for some time at the window, looking out at the swiftly
falling flakes which were already whitening the ground. Bob stood beside
her, his fore-paws resting on the window-sill. He belonged to Cynthia
now; but she patted his head and whispered in his ear that his master
was coming, which made the black tail wag joyfully.

Four years had, of course, made considerable change in Cynthia; and yet
her face did not look very much older. Her fearless blue eyes were just
as merry or as thoughtful by turns as they had always been--at this
moment ver