ny, and a bonnier lot it
would have been difficult to find than that which filled the front pews of
the church, for Miss Howard would have them all near her, insisting that
none of the other guests could possibly have the same loving thoughts for
her that her girls would have.

Promptly at the stroke of four the great organ rolled out its message to
all, and, after her few distant relatives had been conducted to their
seats, Miss Howard's bonny bridesmaids appeared, following another fancy
of hers by walking together, with the ushers leading. First came Edith and
Marie; Edith's yellow golden hair a perfect background for the big white
chip hat, with its masses of violets, and her fair, soft skin made softer
and fairer by the fairy-like chiffon draped so artistically over the pale
violet satin beneath it. A daintily gilded basket filled with violets told
all the story.

Saucy and pert beside her walked the little brownie Marie, looking for all
the world like the bobbing daffies in her white basket. One wanted to sing
the old nursery rhyme: "Daffy-down-dilly has come to town," for they were
nodding a friendly greeting from her hat, and seemed to lend their golden
sheen to the satin beneath the white chiffon gown.

Behind them followed May Foster and Natala King. May's bronze-brown hair
and brilliant coloring were a perfect foil for the creamy-white narcissus
blossoms on her hat and the creamy-white of her gown. While Natala's
light-brown hair and hazel eyes needed just the lilac tints to show how
pretty they were.

Then came Ruth and Helen. Could Miss Howard have chosen two who, placed
beside each other, would have formed a more pronounced contrast? Not even
the solemnity of the occasion could overcome Ruth's ruling passion,
curiosity: she was determined to see all to be seen if it rested with her
to do so. Nor were the pert pansy blossoms upon her hat, nodding a welcome
to all, more on the alert. Or could those which peeped from the folds of
her pansy-yellow gown, with its white chiffon draperies, smile in a more
friendly manner than did Ruth, as she walked slowly up that aisle, with
shy, modest Helen at her side. Helen looked the snowdrop to perfection,
for if the pansies needed Ruth's gypsy coloring for a foil, the snowdrops
needed Helen's pale blonde daintiness for theirs. The only color which
relieved its pure white was the deep green of the wax-like leaves, and the
contrast was perfect. The dress was of that soft