with Edward and see what he says. You can call yourself a bridesmaid,
Mill, if you like to stand beside me, and Peggy will be there, of
course, but she will understand that it is no lack of love which makes
me ask her as a guest only. If there were going to be bridesmaids
outside the family, she would be the first to be asked."

Peggy made a bow of gracious acknowledgment.

"And I am not so sure that there won't be even yet. Men, I have
observed, are extremely prosaic about other people's weddings and
sentimental about their own. The professor may object to the
travelling-dress, and want to see you in the orthodox white, in which
case Mellicent will have her desire, for, of course, you will give in to
him in that, as in every other instance. I hope he does, for I must
confess I like to see a bride in white."

"And so do I," agreed the bride's mother. "I think it's a sin for a
girl to be married in anything else when she is young, and the dress has
to be bought in any case for wearing afterwards. You know, Esther dear,
you will be asked out a great deal in Oxford, and you must have a good
trousseau. No one can call me extravagant, but I am determined not to
let you leave home without seeing that you are well supplied, and have
everything that you need."

Mellicent's eyes brightened with expectation.

"That's right, mother, that's right! That's the way to talk to her. If
it's too painful to her feelings to buy nice things, you and I will go
up to town and get them for her. Just wait until it comes to _my_ turn,
and won't I enjoy myself just! Oh, dear me, how miserable I've been
many and many a time reading those wonderful accounts of trousseaux in
the newspapers, and thinking that I should never, never have the things
for my own! Dozens of hats, dozens of jackets, parasols to match every
dress, and as for blouses, hundreds, my dears, literally hundreds, of
every sort and description!"

"Wicked waste and extravagance," Esther said severely. "I have often
wondered how brides in high position can show such a want of taste and
nice feeling in first wasting so much money, and then making a public
show of what is a purely personal matter. It's beautiful and poetic to
prepare new garments for the new home, but it's vulgar and prosaic to
make a show of them to satisfy public curiosity. If I could afford it a
hundred times over, I would not condescend to such folly. Would you,
Peggy? Whom do you agree with