a of books, just books with titles
that had never yet appeared on any honest book. There were twelve
volumes of "The Beauties of Nature," a shelf full of "Elegant Extracts,"
there were volumes simply called "Poems," there were "Commentaries,"
there were "Travels" and "Astronomy" and the lowest and tallest shelf
was full of "Music." A card-table habitually stood in front of this
false repository learning, and it was only last week that Diva, prying
casually round the room while Elizabeth had gone to take off her
gardening-gloves, had noticed a modest catch let into the wood-work.
Without doubt, then, the book-case was the door of the cupboard, and
with a stroke of intuition, too sure to be called a guess, Diva was
aware that she had correctly inferred the storage of this nefarious
hoard. It only remained to verify her conclusion, and, if possible,
expose it with every circumstance of public ignominy. She was in no
hurry: she could bide her time, aware that, in all probability, every
day that passed would see an addition to its damning contents. Some day,
when she was playing bridge and the card-table had been moved out, in
some rubber when she herself was dummy and Elizabeth greedily playing
the hand, she would secretly and accidentally press the catch which her
acute vision had so providentially revealed to her....

She attacked her chintz curtains again with her appetite for the pink
roses agreeably whetted. Another hour's work would give her sufficient
bunches for her purpose, and unless the dyer was as perfidious as
Elizabeth, her now purple jacket and skirt would arrive that afternoon.
Two days' hard work would be sufficient for so accomplished a
needlewoman as herself to make these original decorations.

In the meantime, for Diva was never idle, and was chiefly occupied with
dress, she got out a certain American fashion paper. There was in it the
description of a tea-gown worn by Mrs. Titus W. Trout which she believed
was within her dressmaking capacity. She would attempt it, anyhow, and
if it proved to be beyond her, she could entrust the more difficult
parts to that little dressmaker whom Elizabeth employed, and who was
certainly very capable. But the costume was of so daring and splendid a
nature that she feared to take anyone into her confidence about it, lest
some hint or gossip--for Tilling was a gossipy place--might leak out.
Kingfisher blue! It made her mouth water to dwell on the sumptuous
syllables!