then of a muslin one, very broad, with worked ends; but
neither pleased her exactly. She recollected that Georgie and Gertrude
had worn simple little ruches the night before, with no bows; and at
last she wisely decided to fasten her ruffle with the little bar of
silver which was her sole possession by way of ornament, for her
mother's few trinkets had all been sold during her father's long
illness. This pin had been a present from the worldly-minded Mrs. Buell,
who so often furnished a text to Aunt Myra's homilies. She had one day
heard Cannie say, when asked by one of the Buell daughters if she had
any jewelry, "Are napkin-rings jewelry? I've got a napkin-ring." Mrs.
Buell had laughed at the droll little speech, and repeated it as a good
joke; but the next time she went to Hartford she bought the silver pin
for Cannie, who was delighted, and held it as her choicest possession.

Her dressing finished, Candace went softly downstairs. She paused at the
staircase window to look out. Cousin Kate's storm had not come after
all. The day was brilliantly fair. Long fingers of sunshine were feeling
their way through the tree-branches, seeking out shady corners and
giving caressing touches to all growing things. A book lay on the
window-bench. It was "A York and a Lancaster Rose," which little Marian
had been reading the night before. It looked interesting, and, seeing by
a glance at the tall clock in the hall below that it was but a little
after seven, Candace settled herself for a long, comfortable reading
before breakfast.

Mrs. Gray was the first of the family to appear. She swept rapidly
downstairs in her pretty morning wrapper of pale pink, with a small
muslin cap trimmed with ribbons of the same shade on her glossy black
hair, and paused to give Cannie a rapid little kiss; but she looked
preoccupied, and paid no further attention to her, beyond a kind word or
two, till breakfast was over, the orders for the day given, half a dozen
notes answered, and half a dozen persons seen on business. The girls
seemed equally busy. Each had her own special little task to do. Georgie
looked over the book-tables and writing-tables; sorted, tidied, put away
the old newspapers; made sure that there was ink in the inkstands and
pens and paper in plenty. After this was done, she set to work to water
the plant boxes and stands in the hall and on the piazza. Gertrude fell
upon a large box of freshly cut flowers, and began to arrange them in