ads" and "sheet-shams" are, let him ask his intended, and let
him see to it that he marries a woman who cannot tell him.

Mrs. Pratt had bought the antimacassars for the Towers, and secretly
adored them until Ada pronounced them to be vulgar. The number of things
which Ada discovered to be vulgar increased every day, and included the
greater part of her mother's wardrobe, much to the distress of that poor
lady. Mrs. Pratt had reached the size when it is prudent to concentrate
a love of bright colors in one's parasol. On this particular afternoon
she shed tears over the fact that Ada refused to accompany her if her
mother wore a unique garment of orange satin, covered with what appeared
to be a plague of black worms.

Of course, the sale of work was combined with a garden-party, and a
little after three o'clock carriage after carriage began to arrive, and
Sybell, with a mournful, handsome, irreproachably dressed husband, took
up her position on the south front to receive her guests.

The whole neighborhood had been invited, and it can generally be gauged
with tolerable accuracy by a hostess of some experience who will respond
to the call and who will stay away. Sybell and her husband were among
those who were not to be found at these festivities, neither were the
Newhavens, save at their own, nor the Pontisburys, nor the Bishop of
Southminster. Cards had, of course, been sent to each, but no one
expected them to appear.

Presently, among the stream of arrivals, Sybell noticed the slender
figure of Lady Newhaven, and--astonishing vision--Lord Newhaven beside
her.

"Wonders will never cease," said Doll, shaken for a moment out of the
apathy of endurance.

Sybell raised her eyebrows, and advanced with the prettiest air of
_empressement_ to meet her unexpected guests. No, clearly it was
impossible that the two women should like each other. They were the same
age, about the same height and coloring; their social position was too
similar; their historic houses too near each other. Lady Newhaven was by
far the best looking, but that was not a difference which attracted
Sybell towards her. On this occasion Sybell's face assumed its most
squirrel-like expression, for, as ill-luck would have it, they were
dressed alike.

Lady Newhaven looked very ethereal, as she came slowly across the grass
in her diaphanous gown of rich white, covered with a flowing veil of
thinnest transparent black. Her blue eyes looked restlessly brig