ad better put in my cerise satin----"

"The cerise?" asked her husband, "Is that the red you had on the other
night? It is much too handsome, much! I tell you, Mrs. Oldname never wears
a dress that you could notice. She always looks like a lady, but she isn't
a dressy sort of person at all."

So the bride packed her plainest (that is her cheapest) clothes, but at
the last, she put in the "cerise."

When she and her husband arrived at the railroad station, _that_ at least
was primitive enough, and Mr. Oldname in much worn tweeds might have come
from a castle or a cabin; country clothes are no evidence. But her
practised eye noticed the perfect cut of the chauffeur's coat and that the
car, though of an inexpensive make, was one of the prettiest on the
market, and beautifully appointed.

"At least they have good taste in motors and accessories," thought she,
and was glad she had brought her best evening dress.

They drove up to a low white shingled house, at the end of an
old-fashioned brick walk bordered with flowers. The visitor noticed that
the flowers were all of one color, all in perfect bloom. She knew no
inexperienced gardener produced that apparently simple approach to a door
that has been chosen as frontispiece in more than one book on Colonial
architecture. The door was opened by a maid in a silver gray taffeta
dress, with organdie collar, cuffs and apron, white stockings and silver
buckles on black slippers, and the guest saw a quaint hall and vista of
rooms that at first sight might easily be thought "simple" by an inexpert
appraiser; but Mrs. Oldname, who came forward to greet her guests, was
the antithesis of everything the bride's husband had led her to believe.

To describe Mrs. Oldname as simple is about as apt as to call a pearl
"simple" because it doesn't dazzle; nor was there an article in the
apparently simple living-room that would be refused were it offered to a
museum.

The tea-table was Chinese Chippendale and set with old Spode on a
lacquered tray over a mosaic-embroidered linen tea-cloth. The soda
biscuits and cakes were light as froth, the tea an especial blend imported
by a prominent connoisseur and given every Christmas to his friends. There
were three other guests besides the bride and groom: a United States
Senator, and a diplomat and his wife who were on their way from a post in
Europe to one in South America. Instead of "bridge" there was conversation
on international topics until i